ALL 

THE 
BROTHERS 

WERE 
VALIANT 


BEN  AMES 
WI1LIAMS 


1-  U 


fj+-  ~  <T "*-.*/: 


ALL  THE  BROTHERS 
WERE  VALIANT 


BEN  AMES  WILLIAMS  has  also  written 
SPLENDOR 

A  distinguished  novel  of  newspaper  life 

"Mr.  Williams  demonstrates  that  real- 
ism need  not  be  sordid  or  ugly.  (His) 
Henry  Becker  is  not  the  kind  of  Amer- 
ican that  Sinclair  Lewis,  for  example, 
understands  or  even  recognizes  as  ex- 
isting, yet  the  country  has  vastly  more 
Henry  Beckers  than  it  has  of  the 
people  whom  Mr.  Lewis  and  his  school 
have  pictured  to  the  world  as  typical 
Americans."  The  Boston  Herald. 

"He  fairly  jostles  Mark  Sullivan  in  the 
latter's  pre-empted  territory.  .  .  .  Fic- 
tion aside,  Mr.  Williams  poses  in  his 
book  some  interesting  journalistic  ques- 
tions." — The  New  York  Times. 

"I  know  of  no  book  that  I  have  read 
which  reflects  in  such  a  true  and  un- 
erring sense  the  home  life  of  a  family 
of  moderate  means  in  the  suburbs. 
There  are  thousands  of  people  of  that 
kind,  and  no  book  could  portray  their 
lives  as  well  as  does  this  novel." 

— Edward  W.  Bok. 

"The  story  is  the  kind  of  realism  that 
keeps  me  reading  into  the  night.  It 
is  a  splendid  book."  — George  Ade. 

DEATH  ON  SCURVY  STREET 
THE  DREADFUL  NIGHT 
THE  SILVER  FOREST 
IMMORTAL  LONGINGS 
THE  RATIONAL  HIND 
BLACK  PAWL 
THRIFTY  STOCK 
AUDACITY 
EVERED 

Published  by  E.  P.  Dutton  &  Company,  Inc. 


Ps 


/f-7 


ALL  THE  BROTHERS 
WERE  VALIANT 


ALL  THE  BROTHERS 
WERE  VALIANT 


THE  fine  old  house  stood  on  Jumping 
Tom  Hill,  above  the  town.  It  had 
stood  there  before  there  was  a  town,  when  only 
a  cabin  or  two  fringed  the  woods  below,  nearer 
the  shore.  The  weather  boarding  had  been 
brought  in  ships  from  England,  ready  sawed; 
likewise  the  bricks  of  the  chimney.  Indians 
used  to  come  to  the  house  in  the  cold  of  win- 
ter, begging  shelter.  Given  blankets,  and 
food,  and  drink,  they  slept  upon  the  kitchen 
floor;  and  when  Joel  Shore's  great-great-grand- 
father came  down  in  the  morning,  he  found  In- 
dians and  blankets  gone  together.  Sometimes 

[5] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

the  Indians  came  back  with  a  venison  haunch, 
or  a  bear  steak  .  .  .  sometimes  not  at  all. 

The  house  had,  now,  the  air  of  disuse  which 
old  New  England  houses  often  have.  It  was 
in  perfect  repair;  its  paint  was  white,  and  its 
shutters  hung  squarely  at  the  windows.  But 
the  grass  was  uncut  in  the  yard,  and  the  lack 
of  a  veranda,  and  the  tight-closed  doors  and 
windows,  made  the  house  seem  lifeless  and 
lacking  the  savor  of  human  presence.  There 
was  a  white-painted  picket  fence  around  the 
yard;  and  a  rambler  rose  draped  these  pickets. 
The  buds  on  the  rose  were  bursting  into  crim- 
son flower. 

The  house  was  four-square,  plain,  and  with- 
out any  ornamentation.  It  was  built  about  a 
great,  square  chimney  that  was  like  a  spine. 
There  were  six  flues  in  this  chimney,  and  a  pot 
atop  each  flue.  These  little  chimney  pots 
breaking  the  severe  outlines  of  the  house,  gave 
[6] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

the  only  suggestion  of  lightness  or  frivolity 
about  it.  They  were  like  the  heads  of  impish 
children,  peeping  over  a  fence.  .  .  . 

Across  the  front  of  this  house,  on  the  second 
floor,  ran  a  single,  long  room  like  a  corridor. 
Its  windows  looked  down,  across  the  town,  to 
the  Harbor.  A  glass  hung  in  brackets  on  the 
wall;  there  was  a  hog-yoke  in  its  case  upon  a 
little  table,  and  a  ship's  chronometer,  and  a 
compass.  .  .  .  There  were  charts  in  a  tin 
tube  upon  the  wall,  and  one  that  showed  the 
Harbor  and  the  channel  to  the  sea  hung  be- 
tween the  middle  windows.  In  the  north  cor- 
ner, a  harpoon,  and  two  lances,  and  a  boat  spade 
leaned.  Their  blades  were  covered  with 
wooden  sheaths,  painted  gray.  A  fifteen-foot 
jawbone,  cleaned  and  polished  and  with  every 
curving  tooth  in  place,  hung  upon  the  rear  wall 
and  gleamed  like  old  and  yellow  ivory.  The 
chair  at  the  table  was  fashioned  of  whalebone; 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

and  on  a  bracket  above  the  table  rested  the 
model  of  a  whaling  ship,  not  more  than  eight- 
een inches  long,  fashioned  of  sperm  ivory  and 
perfect  in  every  detail.  Even  the  tiny  har- 
poons in  the  boats  that  hung  along  the  rail  were 
tipped  with  bits  of  steel.  .  .  . 

The  windows  of  this  place  were  tight  closed; 
nevertheless,  the  room  was  filled  with  the  harsh, 
strong  smell  of  the  sea. 

Joel  Shore  sat  in  the  whalebone  chair,  at  the 
table,  reading  a  book.  The  book  was  the  Log 
of  the  House  of  Shore.  Joel's  father  had  be- 
gun it,  when  Joel  and  his  four  brothers  were 
ranging  from  babyhood  through  youth.  .  .  . 
A  full  half  of  the  book  was  filled  with  entries  in 
old  Matthew  Shore's  small,  cramped  hand. 
The  last  of  these  entries  was  very  short.  It  be- 
gan with  a  date,  and  it  read : 

"Wind  began  light,  from  the  south.  This 
day  came  into  Harbor  the  bark  Winona,  after  a 
[8] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

cruise  of  three  years,  two  months,  and  four 
days.  Captain  Chase  reported  that  my  eldest 
son,  Matthew  Shore,  was  killed  by  the  fluke  of 
a  right  whale,  at  Christmas  Island.  The  whale 
yielded  seventy  barrels  of  oil.  Matthew  Shore 
was  second  mate." 

And  below,  upon  a  single  line,  like  an  epi- 
taph, the  words: 

"  'All  the  brothers  were  valiant.'  " 

Two  days  after,  the  old  man  sickened;  and 
three  weeks  later,  he  died.  He  had  set  great 
store  by  big  Matt.  .  .  . 

Joel,  turning  the  leaves  of  the  Log,  and  scan- 
ning their  brief  entries,  came  presently  to  this 
—  written  in  the  hand  of  his  brother  John : 

"Wind  easterly.  This  day  the  Betty  was 
reported  lost  on  the  Japan  grounds,  with  all 
hands  save  the  boy  and  the  cook.  Noah  Shore 
was  third  mate.  Day  ended  as  it  began." 

And  below,  again,  that  single  line: 

[9] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 
"  'All  the  brothers  were  valiant.'  " 

There  followed  many  pages  filled  with  re- 
ports of  rich  cruises,  when  ships  came  home 
with  bursting  casks,  and  the  brothers  of  the 
House  of  Shore  played  the  parts  of  men.  The 
entries  were  now  in  the  hand  of  one,  now  of  an- 
other; John  and  Mark  and  Joel.  .  .  .  Joel 
read  phrases  here  and  there.  .  .  . 

"This  day  the  Martin  Wilkes  returned  .  .  . 
two  years,  eleven  months  and  twenty-two  days 
.  .  .  died  on  the  cruise,  and  first  mate  John 
Shore  became  captain.  Day  ended  as  it  be- 
gan." 

And,  a  page  or  two  further  on : 

".  .  .  Martin  Wilkes  .  .  .  two  years,  two 
months,  four  days  .  .  .  tubs  on  deck  filled  with 
oil,  for  which  there  was  no  more  room  in  the 
casks  .  .  .  Captain  John  Shore." 

Mark  Shore's  first  entry  in  the  Log  stood  out 
from  the  others;  for  Mark's  hand  was  bold,  and 

[10] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

strong,  and  the  letters  sprawled  blackly  along 
the  lines.  Furthermore,  Mark  used  the  per- 
sonal pronoun,  while  the  other  brothers  wrote 
always  in  the  third  person.  Mark  had  written : 

"This  day,  I,  Mark  Shore,  at  the  age  of 
twenty-seven,  was  given  command  of  the  whal- 
ing bark  Nathan  Ross.1' 

Joel  read  this  sentence  thrice.  There  was  a 
bold  pride  in  it,  and  a  strong  and  reckless  note 
which  seemed  to  bring  his  brother  before  his 
very  eyes.  Mark  had  always  been  so,  swift  of 
tongue,  and  strong,  and  sure.  Joel  turned  an- 
other page,  came  to  where  Mark  had  written: 

"This  day  I  returned  from  my  first  cruise 
with  full  casks  in  two  years,  seven  months, 
fifteen  days.  I  found  the  Martin  Wilkes  in  the 
dock.  They  report  Captain  John  Shore  lost  at 
Vau  Vau  in  an  effort  to  save  the  ship's  boy, 
who  had  fallen  overboard.  The  boy  was  also 
lost." 

[11] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

And,  below,  in  bold  and  defiant  letters : 
"  'All  the  brothers  were  valiant/  " 

There  were  two  more  pages  of  entries,  in 
Mark's  hand  or  in  Joel's,  before  the  end. 
When  he  came  to  the  fresh  page,  Joel  dipped 
his  pen,  and  huddled  his  broad  shoulders  over 
the  book,  and  slowly  wrote  that  which  had  to 
be  written. 

"Wind  northeast,  light,"  he  began,  accord- 
ing to  the  ancient  form  of  the  sea,  which  makes 
the  state  of  wind  and  weather  of  first  and  fore- 
most import.  "Wind  northeast,  light.  This 
day  the  Martin  Wilkes  finished  a  three  year 
cruise.  Found  in  port  the  Nathan  Ross.  She 
reports  that  Captain  Mark  Shore  left  the  ship 
when  she  watered  at  the  Gilbert  Islands.  He 
did  not  return,  and  could  not  be  found.  They 
searched  three  weeks.  They  encountered  hos- 
tile islanders.  No  trace  of  Mark  Shore." 

When  he  had  written  thus  far,  he  read  the 
[12] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

record  to  himself,  his  lips  moving;  then  he  sat 
for  a  space  with  frowning  brows,  thinking, 
thinking,  wondering  if  there  were  a  chance.  .  .  . 

But  in  the  end  he  cast  the  hope  aside.  If 
Mark  lived,  they  would  have  found  him,  would 
surely  have  found  him.  .  .  . 

And  so  Joel  wrote  the  ancient  line : 
"  'All  the  brothers  were  valiant/  " 

And  below,  as  an  afterthought,  he  added: 
"Joel  Shore  became  first  mate  of  the  Martin 
Wilkes  on  her  cruise." 

He  blotted  this  line,  and  closed  the  book, 
and  put  it  away.  Then  he  went  to  the  win- 
dows that  looked  down  upon  the  Harbor,  and 
stood  there  for  a  long  time.  His  face  was 
serene,  but  his  eyes  were  faintly  troubled.  He 
did  not  see  the  things  that  lay  outspread  below 
him. 

Yet  they  were  worth  seeing.  The  town  was 
old,  and  it  had  the  fragrance  of  age  about  it. 

[13] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Below  Joel,  on  the  hill's  slopes,  among  the 
trees,  stood  the  square  white  houses  of  the  town 
folk.  Beyond  them,  the  white  spire  of  the 
church  with  its  weather  vane  atop.  Joel 
marked  that  the  wind  was  still  northeast.  The 
vane  swung  fitfully  in  the  light  air.  He  could 
see  the  masts  and  yards  of  the  ships  along  the 
waterfront.  The  yards  of  the  'Nathan  Ross 
were  canted  in  mournful  tribute  to  his  brother. 
At  the  pier  end  beside  her,  he  marked  the  ranks 
of  casks,  brown  with  sweating  oil.  Beyond, 
the  smooth  water  ruffled  in  the  wind,  and  dark 
ripple-shadows  moved  across  its  surface  with 
each  breeze.  There  were  gulls  in  the  air,  and 
on  the  water.  Such  stillness  lay  upon  the 
sleepy  town  that  if  his  windows  had  been  open, 
he  might  have  heard  the  harsh  cries  of  the  birds. 
A  man  was  sculling  shoreward  from  a  fishing 
schooner  that  lay  at  anchor  off  the  docks;  and 
a  whaleboat  crawled  like  a  spider  across  the 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

harbor  toward  Fairhaven  on  the  other  side. 

On  a  flag  staff  above  a  big  building  near  the 
water,  a  half-masted  flag  hung  idly  in  the 
faintly  stirring  air.  It  hung  there,  he  knew, 
for  his  brother's  sake.  He  watched  it  thought- 
fully, wondering.  .  .  .  There  had  been  such 
an  abounding  insolence  of  life  in  big  Mark 
Shore.  ...  It  was  hard  to  believe  that  he  was 
surely  dead. 

A  woman  passed  along  the  street  below  the 
house,  and  looked  up  and  saw  him  at  the  win- 
dow. He  did  not  see  her.  Two  boys  crawled 
along  the  white  picket  fence,  and  pricked  their 
fingers  as  they  broke  half-open  clusters  from 
the  rambler  without  molestation.  A  gray 
squirrel,  when  the  boys  had  gone,  came  down 
from  an  elm  across  the  street  and  sprinted  des- 
perately to  the  foot  of  the  great  oak  below  the 
house.  When  it  was  safe  in  the  oak's  upper 
branches,  it  scolded  derisively  at  the  imaginary 

[15] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

terrors  it  had  escaped.  A  blue  jay,  with  ruffled 
feathers — a  huge,  blue  ball  in  the  air — rocketed 
across  from  the  elm,  and  established  himself 
near  the  squirrel,  and  they  swore  at  each  other 
like  coachmen.  The  squirrel  swore  from 
temper  and  disposition;  the  jay  from  malice 
and  derision.  The  bird  seemed  to  have  the  bet- 
ter of  the  argument,  for  the  squirrel  suddenly 
fell  silent  and  departed,  his  emotions  revealing 
themselves  only  in  the  angry  flicks  of  his  tail. 
When  he  was  gone,  the  jay  began  to  investigate 
a  knot  in  a  limb  of  the  oak.  The  bird  climbed 
around  this  knot  with  slow  motions  curiously 
like  those  of  a  parrot. 

A  half-grown  boy  came  up  the  street  and 
turned  in  at  the  gate.  Joel  remained  where  he 
was  until  the  boy  manipulated  the  knocker  on 
the  door;  then  he  went  down  and  opened.  He 
knew  the  boy;  Peter  How.  Peter  was  thin  and 
freckled  and  nervous;  and  he  was  inclined  to 

[16] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

stammer.  When  Joel  opened  the  door,  Peter 
was  at  first  unable  to  speak.  He  stood  on  the 
step,  jerking  his  chin  upward  and  forward  as 
though  his  collar  irked  him.  Joel  smiled 
slowly. 

"Come  in,  Peter,"  he  said. 

Peter  jerked  his  chin,  jerked  his  whole  head 
furiously.  "C— C— C— "  he  said.  "Asa  W- 
W-Worthen  wants  to  s-s-see  you." 

Asa  Worthen  was  the  owner  of  the  Mar- 
tin Wilkes,  and  of  the  Nathan  Ross.  Joel 
nodded  gently. 

'Thank  you,  Peter,"  he  told  the  boy.  "I'll 
get  my  hat  and  come." 

Peter  jerked  his  head.  He  seemed  to  be 
choking.  "He's  a-a-a-a-at  his  office,"  he 
blurted. 

Joel  had  found  his  hat.  He  closed  the  door 
of  the  house  behind  him,  and  he  and  Peter  went 
down  the  shady  street  together. 

[17] 


II 

ASA  WORTHEN  was  a  small,  lean,  strong 
old  man,  immensely  voluble.  He  must 
have  been  well  over  sixty  years  old ;  and  he  had 
grown  rich  by  harvesting  the  living  treasures  of 
the  sea.  At  thirty-four,  he  owned  his  first  ship. 
She  was  old,  and  cranky,  and  no  more  sea- 
worthy than  a  log;  but  she  earned  him  more 
than  four  hundred  thousand  dollars,  net,  be- 
fore he  beached  her  on  the  sand  below  the  town. 
She  lay  there  still,  her  upper  parts  strong  and 
well  preserved.  But  her  bottom  was  gone,  and 
she  was  slowly  rotting  into  the  sand. 

Asa  himself  had  captained  this  old  craft,  un- 
til she  had  served  her  appointed  time ;  but  when 
she  went  to  the  sand  flats,  he,  too,  stayed  ashore, 
to  watch  his  ships  come  in.  When  they  were 

[18] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

in  harbor,  they  berthed  in  his  own  dock;  and 
from  his  office  at  the  shoreward  end  of  the  pier, 
he  could  look  down  upon  their  decks,  and  watch 
the  casks  come  out,  so  fat  with  oil,  and  the 
stores  go  aboard  for  each  cruise.  The  cries  of 
the  men  and  the  wheeling  gulls,  the  rattle  of 
the  blocks  and  gear,  and  the  rich  smell  of  the 
oil  came  up  to  him.  .  .  .  The  'Nathan  Ross 
was  loading  now;  and  when  Joel  climbed  the 
office  stairs,  he  found  the  old  man  at  the  win- 
dow watching  them  sling  great  shooks  of  staves 
into  her  hold,  and  fidgeting  at  the  lubberli- 
ness  of  the  men  who  did  the  work. 

Asa's  office  was  worth  seeing;  a  strange, 
huge  room,  windowed  on  three  sides;  against 
one  wall,  a  whaleboat  with  all  her  gear  in 
place;  in  a  corner,  the  twisted  jaw  of  a  sixty- 
barrel  bull,  killed  in  the  Seychelles;  and  Asa 
Worthen's  big  desk,  with  a  six-foot  model  of 
his  old  ship  atop  it,  between  the  forward  win- 

[19] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

dows.  Beside  the  desk  stood  that  contrivance 
known  to  the  whalemen  as  a  "woman's  tub"; 
a  cask,  sawed  chair-fashion,  with  a  cross  board 
for  seat,  and  ropes  so  rigged  that  the  whole 
might  be  easily  and  safely  swung  from  ship 
to  small  boat  or  back  again.  Asa  had  taken 
his  wife  along  on  more  than  one  of  his  early 
voyages  .  .  .  before  she  died.  .  .  . 

At  Joel's  step,  the  little  man  swung  awk- 
wardly away  from  the  window,  toward  the 
door.  Many  years  ago,  a  racing  whale  line  had 
snarled  his  left  leg  and  whipped  away  a  gout  of 
muscle;  and  this  leg  was  now  shorter  than  its 
•fellow,  so  that  Asa  walked  with  a  pegging  limp. 
He  hitched  across  the  big  room,  and  took  Joel's 
*  arm,  and  led  the  young  man  to  the  desk. 

"Sit  down,  Joel.  Sit  down,"  he  said  briskly. 
"I've  words  to  say  to  you,  my  son.  Sit  down." 
Asa  was  smoking;  and  Joel  took  a  twist  of  leaf 
from  his  pocket,  and  cut  three  slices,  and  crum- 

[20] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

bled  them  and  stuffed  them  into  the  bowl  of 
his  black  pipe.  Asa  watched  the  process,  and 
he  watched  Joel,  puffing  without  comment. 
There  was  something  furtive  in  the  scrutiny  of 
the  young  man,  but  Joel  did  not  mark  it. 
When  the  pipe  was  ready,  Asa  passed  across 
a  match,  and  Joel  struck  it,  and  puffed 
slowly.  .  .  . 

Asa  began,  abruptly,  what  he  had  to  say. 
"Joel,  the  Nathan  Ross  will  be  ready  for  sea 
in  five  days.  She's  stout,  her  timbers  are  good 
and  her  tackle  is  strong.  She's  a  lucky  ship. 
The  oil  swims  after  her  across  the  broad  sea, 
and  begs  to  be  taken.  She's  my  pet  ship,  Joel, 
as  you  know;  and  she's  uncommon  well  fitted. 
Mark  had  her.  Now  I  want  you  to  take  her." 

Joel's  calm  eyes  had  met  the  other's  while 
Asa  was  speaking;  and  Asa  had  shifted  to  avoid 
the  encounter.  But  Joel's  heart  was  pounding 
so,  at  the  words  of  the  older  man,  that  he  took 

[21] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

no  heed.  He  listened,  and  he  waited  thought- 
fully until  he  was  sure  of  what  he  wished  to 
say.  Then  he  asked  quietly: 

"Is  not  James  Finch  the  mate  of  her*?  Did 
he  not  fetch  her  hornet" 

"Aye,"  said  Asa  impatiently.  "He  brought 
her  home — in  the  top  scurry  of  haste.  There 
was  no  need  of  such  haste;  for  he  had  still 
casks  unfilled,  and  there  was  sparm  all  about 
him  where  he  lay.  He  should  have  filled  those 
last  casks.  'Tis  in  them  the  profit  lies."  He 
shook  his  head  sorrowfully.  "No,  Jim  Finch 
will  not  do.  He  is  a  good  man — under  an- 
other man.  But  he  has  not  the  spine  that 
stands  alone.  When  Mark  Shore  was  gone  .  .  . 
Jim  had  no  thought  but  to  throw  the  try  works 
overside  and  scurry  hitherward  as  though  he 
feared  to  be  out  upon  the  seas  alone." 

Joel  puffed  thrice  at  his  pipe.  Then: 
"You  said  this  morning  that  for  three  weeks 

[22] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

he  hunted  Mark,  up  and  down  the  Gilbert 
Islands." 

Asa's  little  eyes  whipped  toward  Joel,  and 
away  again.  "Oh,  aye,"  he  said  harshly. 
"Three  weeks  he  hunted,  when  one  was  plenty. 
If  Mark  Shore  lived,  and  wished  to  find  his 
ship  again,  he'd  have  found  her  in  a  week.  If 
he  were  dead  .  .  .  there  was  no  need  of  the 
time  wasted." 

"Nevertheless,"  said  Joel  quietly,  "James 
Finch  has  my  thanks  for  his  search;  and  I'm 
no  mind  to  do  him  a  harm,  or  to  step  into  his 
shoes." 

Asa  smiled  grimly.  "Ye5  re  over  consid- 
erate," he  said.  "Jim  Finch  was  your  brother's 
man,  and  a  very  loyal  one.  As  long  as  he  is  an- 
other's man,  he  is  content.  But  he  has  no  want 
to  be  his  own  master  and  the  master  of  a  ship, 
and  of  men.  I've  askit  him." 

Joel  puffed  hard  at  his  pipe;  and  after  a  little 

[23] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

he  asked:  "Sir,  what  think  you  it  was  that 
came  to  Mark?" 

Asa  looked  at  him  sharply,  then  away;  and 
his  accustomed  volubility  fell  away  from  him. 
He  lifted  his  hands.  "Ask  James  Finch, 
I've  no  way  to  tell,"  he  said  curtly. 

"Have  you  no  opinion?"  Joel  insisted. 

The  ship  owner  tilted  his  head,  set  finger  tip 
to  finger  tip,  assumed  the  air  of  one  who  de- 
livers judgment.  "Islanders,  'tis  like,"  he  said. 
"There's  a  many  there."  He  looked  sidewise 
at  Joel,  looked  away.  Joel  was  nodding. 

"Yes,  many  thereabouts,"  he  agreed.  "But 
there  would  have  been  tracks.  Were  there 
none?" 

"Mark  left  his  boat's  crew,"  said  Asa. 
"Walked  away  along  the  shore.  That  was  all." 

"No  tracks?" 

"They  saw  where  he'd  left  the  sand."  The 
ship  owner  shifted  in  his  chair.  "Seems  like 

[24] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

I'd  heard  you  and  Mark  wa'n't  too  good 
friends,  Joel.  Your  a'mighty  worked  up." 

Joel  looked  at  the  little  man  with  bleak  eyes. 
"He  was  my  brother." 

"I've  heard  tell  he  forgot  you  was  his,  some- 
times." 

Joel  paid  no  heed.  "You  think  it  was 
Islanders'?" 

Asa  kicked  the  corner  of  his  desk,  watching 
his  foot.  "What  else  was  there*?" 

"I've  nothing  in  my  mind,"  said  Joel,  and 
shook  his  head.  "But  it  sticks  in  me  that  Mark 
was  no  man  to  die  easy.  There  was  a  full 
measure  of  life  in  him." 

Asa  got  up  awkwardly,  waved  his  hand. 
"We're  off  the  course,  Joel.  What  about  the 
Nathan  Ross?  Ready  for  sea,  come  Tuesday. 
I'm  not  one  to  press  her  on  any  man,  unwilling. 
Say  your  say,  man.  Do  you  take  her?  Or 
no?" 

[25] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Joel  drew  slowly  once  more  upon  his  pipe. 
"If  I  take  her,"  he  said,  "we'll  work  the  Gil- 
berts first  of  all,  and  try  once  again  for  a  sign 
of  my  brother  Mark/' 

Asa  jerked  his  head.  "So  you  pick  up  any 
oil  that  comes  your  way,  I've  no  objection," 
he  agreed.  "Matter  of  fact,  that's  the  best 
thing  to  do.  Mark  may  yet  live."  His  eyes 
snapped  up  to  the  others.  "You  take  her, 
then?" 

Joel  nodded  slowly.  "I  take  her,  sir,"  he 
said.  "With  thanks  to  you." 

Asa  banged  his  hand  jubilantly  on  his  desk. 
"That's  done.  Now  .  .  ." 

The  two  men  sat  down  at  Asa's  big  desk 
again;  and  for  an  hour  they  were  busy  with 
matters  that  concerned  the  coming  cruise. 
When  a  whaleship  goes  to  sea,  she  goes  for  a 
three-year  cruise;  and  save  only  the  items  of 
food  and  water,  she  carries  with  her  everything 

[26] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

she  will  need  for  that  whole  time,  with  an  am- 
ple allowance  to  spare.  She  is  a  department 
store  of  the  seas;  for  she  works  with  iron  and 
wood,  with  steel  and  bone,  with  fire  and  water 
and  rope  and  sail.  All  these  things  she  must 
have,  and  many  more.  And  the  lists  of  a 
whaleship's  stores  are  long  and  long,  and  take 
much  checking.  When  they  had  considered 
these  matters,  Asa  sent  out  to  the  pierhead  to 
summon  Jim  Finch,  and  told  the  man  that  Joel 
would  have  the  ship.  Joel  said  to  Finch 
slowly:  'I've  no  mind  to  fight  a  grudge 
aboard  my  ship,  sir.  If  you  blame  me  for  step- 
ping into  your  shoes,  Mr.  Worthen  will  give 
you  another  berth." 

Finch  shook  his  head.  He  was  a  big,  laugh- 
ing man  with  soft,  fat  cheeks.  "No,  sir,"  he 
declared.  "It's  yours,  and  welcome.  Your 
brother  was  a  man;  and  you've  the  look  of 
another,  sir." 

[27] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

Joel  frowned.  He  was  uncomfortable;  he 
had  an  angry  feeling  that  Finch  was  too  ami- 
able. But  he  said  no  more,  and  Finch  went 
back  to  the  ship,  and  Asa  and  Joel  continued 
with  their  task. 

While  they  worked,  the  afternoon  sun  drifted 
down  the  western  sky  till  its  level  rays  were 
flame  lances  laid  across  the  harbor.  A  fish- 
ing craft  at  anchor  in  mid-stream  hoisted  her 
sails  with  a  creak  and  rattle  of  blocks  and 
drifted  down  the  channel  with  the  tide.  The 
wheeling  gulls  dropped,  one  by  one,  to  the 
water;  or  they  lurched  off  to  some  quiet  cove 
to  spend  the  night.  Their  harsh  cries  came 
less  frequently,  were  less  persistent.  The  wind 
had  swung  around,  and  it  was  fetching  now 
from  the  water  a  cold  and  salty  chill.  There 
was  a  smell  of  cooking  in  the  air,  and  the  smoke 
from  the  Nathan  Ross9  galley,  and  the  cool 
smell  of  the  sea  mingled  with  the  strong  odor 

[28] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

of  the  oil  in  the  casks  ranked  at  the  end  of  the 
pier. 

The  sun  had  touched  the  horizon  when  Joel 
at  last  rose  to  go.  Asa  got  up  with  him, 
dropped  a  hand  on  the  young  man's  shoulder. 
They  passed  the  contrivance  called  a  "woman's 
tub";  and  Asa,  at  sight  of  it,  seemed  to  be 
minded  of  something.  He  stopped,  and 
checked  Joel,  and  with  eyes  twinkling,  pointed 
to  the  tub.  "Will  you  be  wishful  to  take  that 
on  the  cruise,  Joel5?"  he  asked,  and  looked  up 
sidewise  at  the  younger  man,  and  chuckled. 

Joel's  brown  cheeks  were  covered  with  slow 
fire;  but  his  voice  was  steady  enough  when  he 
replied.  "It's  a  kind  offer,  sir,"  he  said.  "I 
know  well  what  store  you  set  by  that  tub." 

"Will  you  be  wanting  it?'  Asa  still  in- 
sisted. 

"I'll  see,"  said  Joel  quietly.     "I  will  see." 

r 

[29] 


Ill 

THE  brothers  of  the  House  of  Shore  had 
been,  on  the  whole,  slow  to  take  to 
themselves  wives.  Matt  had  never  married, 
nor  Noah,  nor  Mark.  John  had  a  wife  for  the 
weeks  he  was  at  home  before  his  last  cruise; 
but  he  did  not  take  her  with  him  on  that  voy- 
age, and  there  was  no  John  Shore  to  carry  on 
the  name. 

John  Shore's  widow  was  called  Rachel.  She 
had  been  Rachel  Holt;  and  her  sister's  name 
was  Priscilla.  Rachel  was  one  of  those  women 
who  suggest  slumbering  fires;  she  was  slow  of 
speech,  and  quiet,  and  calm.  .  .  .  But  John 
Shore  and  Mark  had  both  loved  her;  and  when 
she  married  John,  Mark  laughed  a  hard  and 
reckless  laugh  that  made  the  woman  afraid. 

[30] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

John  and  Mark  never  spoke,  one  to  another, 
after  that  marriage. 

Rachel's  sister,  Priscilla,  was  a  gay  and  care- 
less child.  She  was  six  years  younger  than 
Joel,  and  she  had  acquired  in  babyhood  the 
habit  of  thinking  Joel  the  most  wonderful  cre- 
ated thing.  Their  yards  adjoined;  and  she  was 
the  baby  of  her  family,  and  he  of  his.  Thus 
the  big  boy  and  the  little  girl  had  always  been 
comrades  and  allies  against  the  world.  Be- 
fore Joel  first  went  to  sea,  as  ship's  boy,  the  two 
had  decided  they  would  some  day  be  mar- 
ried. .  .  . 

Joel  went  to  supper  that  night  at  Priscilla's 
home.  He  was  alone  in  his  own  house;  and 
Mrs.  Holt  was  a  person  with  a  mother's  heart. 
Rachel  lived  at  home.  She  gave  Joel  quiet 
welcome  at  the  door,  before  Priscilla  in  the 
kitchen  heard  his  voice  and  came  flying  to  over- 
whelm him.  She  had  been  making  popovers, 

[31] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

and  there  was  flour  on  her  fingers — and  on 
Joel's  best  black  coat,  when  she  was  done  with 
him.  Rachel  brushed  it  off,  when  Priss  had 
run  back  to  her  oven. 

They  sat  down  at  table.  Mrs.  Holt  at  one 
end,  her  husband — he  was  a  big  man,  an  old 
sea  captain,  and  full  of  yarns  as  a  knitting 
bag — at  the  other;  and  Rachel  at  one  side, 
facing  Priss  and  Joel.  Joel's  ship  had  come 
in  only  that  day;  the  Nathan  Ross  had  been  in 
port  for  weeks.  So  the  whole  town  knew  Mark 
Shore's  story.  They  spoke  of  it  now,  and 
Joel  told  them  what  he  knew.  .  .  .  Rachel 
wondered  if  there  was  any  chance  that  Mark 
might  still  be  alive.  Her  father  broke  in  with 
a  story  of  Mark's  first  cruise,  when  the  boy  had 
saved  a  man's  life  by  his  quickness  with  the 
hatchet  on  the  racing  line.  The  town  was  full 
of  such  stories;  for  Mark  was  one  of  those 

[32] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

men  about  whom  legends  arise.     And  now  he 
was  gone.  .  .  . 

Priscilla  listened  to  the  talk  with  the  wide 
eyes  of  youth,  awed  by  the  mystery  and  maj- 
esty of  tragic  things.  She  remembered  Mark 
as  a  huge  man,  like  a  pagan  god,  in  whose  eyes 
she  had  been  only  a  thin-legged  little  girl  who 
made  faces  through  the  fence.  .  .  .  After  sup- 
per, when  the  others  had  left  them  in  the  parlor 
together,  she  said  to  Joel:  "Do  you  think 
he's  dead?"  Her  voice  was  a  whisper. 

"I  aim  to  know,"  said  Joel. 

Rachel  looked  in  at  the  door.  "You 
needn't  bother  with  the  dishes,  Priss,"  she  said. 
"I'll  do  them." 

Priscilla  had  forgotten  all  about  that  task. 
She  ran  contritely  toward  her  sister.  "Oh,  I'm 
sorry,  Rachel.  I  will,  I  will  do  them.  Joel 
and  I.  .  .  ." 

[33] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Rachel  laughed  softly.  "I  don't  mind  them. 
You  two  stay  here." 

Priscilla  accepted  the  offer,  in  the  end;  but 
she  had  no  notion  of  staying  in  the  tight-win- 
dowed parlor,  with  its  harsh  carpet  on  the  floor, 
and  its  samplers  on  the  walls.  She  was  of  the 
new  generation,  the  generation  which  discovered 
that  the  night  is  beautiful,  and  not  unhealthy. 
"Let's  go  outside,"  she  said  to  Joel.  "There's 
a  moon.  We  can  sit  on  the  bench,  under  the 
apple  tree.  .  .  ." 

They  went  out,  side  by  side.  Joel  was  not 
a  tall  man,  but  he  was  inches  taller  than  Pris- 
cilla. She  was  tiny;  a  dainty,  sweetly  propor- 
tioned creature,  built  on  fine  lines  that  were 
strangely  out  of  keeping  with  the  stalwart  stock 
from  which  she  sprung.  Her  hair  was  darker 
than  Joel's ;  it  was  a  brown  so  dark  that  it  was 
almost  black.  But  her  eyes  were  vividly  blue, 
and  her  lips  were  vividly  red,  and  her  cheeks 

[34] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

were  bright.  .  .  .  She  slipped  her  hand  through 
Joel's  big  arm  as  they  crossed  the  yard;  and 
when  they  had  found  the  seat,  she  drew  his  arm 
frankly  about  her  shoulders.  "I'm  cold,"  she 
said,  laughing  up  at  him.  "You  must  keep  me 
warm.  .  .  ." 

The  moon  flecked  down  through  the  leaves 
upon  her  face.  There  was  moonlight  on  her 
cheek,  and  on  her  mouth ;  but  her  thick  hair  and 
her  eyes  were  shadowed  and  mysterious.  Joel 
saw  that  her  lips  were  smiling.  .  .  .  She  drew 
his  head  down  toward  hers.  .  .  .  Joel  was 
flesh  and  blood;  and  she  panted,  and  gasped, 
and  pushed  him  away,  and  smoothed  her  hair, 
and  laughed  at  him.  "I  love  you  to  be  so 
strong,"  she  whispered,  happily. 

He  had  not  told  them,  at  supper,  of  his  pro- 
motion. He  told  Priscilla  now;  and  the  girl 
could  not  sit  still  beside  him.  She  danced  in 
the  path  before  the  seat;  she  perched  on  his 

[35] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

knee,  and  caught  his  big  shoulders  in  her  tiny 
hands  and  tried  to  shake  him  back  and  forth 
in  her  delight.  "You  don't  act  a  bit  excited," 
she  scolded.  "You  don't  act  as  though  you 
were  glad,  a  bit.  Aren't  you  glad,  Joe*? 
Aren't  you  just  so  proud4?  .  .  ." 

"Yes,"  he  told  her.  "Of  course.  Yes. 
Yes,  I  am  glad,  and  I  am  proud." 

"Oh,"  she  cried,  "I  could — I  could  just  hug 
you  in  two."  She  tried  it,  tightening  her  arms 
about  his  big  neck,  clinging  to  him.  .  .  .  He 
sat  stiff  and  awkward  under  her  caresses,  thrill- 
ing with  a  happiness  that  he  did  not  know  how 
to  express.  He  felt  uneasy,  half  embarrassed. 
Her  ecstasy  continued.  .  .  . 

Then,  abruptly,  it  passed.  She  became  prac- 
tical. Still  upon  his  knee,  she  began  to  ask 
questions.  When  would  he  sail  away'?  She 
had  heard  the  Nathan  Ross  was  almost  ready. 
When  would  he  come  back*?  When  would  he 

[36] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

be  rich,  so  that  they  might  be  married? 
Would  it  be  long?  .  .  . 

Joel  found  tongue.  "We  will  be  married 
Monday,"  he  said  slowly.  "We  will  go  away 
— on  the  Nathan  Ross — together.  I  do  not 
want  to  go  alone." 

She  slipped  from  his  knee,  stood  before  him. 
"Why,  Joel!  You're — you're  just  crazy  to 
think  of  it." 

He  shook  his  head.  "No,"  he  said.  "No,  I 
have  thought  all  about  it.  It  is  the  best  thing 
to  do.  We  will  be  married  Monday;  and  we 
will  make  a  bigger  cabin  on  the — Nathan 
Ross.  .  .  ."  His  voice  always  slowed  a  little 
as  he  spoke  the  name  of  his  first  ship.  "You 
will  be  happy  on  her,"  he  said.  "You  will  like 
it  all.  ...  The  sea.  .  .  ." 

She  returned  to  his  knee,  tumbling  his  hair. 
"You  silly!  Men  don't  understand.  Why,  I 
couldn't  be  ready  for  ever  so  long.  And  I 

[37] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

wouldn't  dare  go  away  with  you.  For  so  aw- 
fully long.  I  just  couldn't.  .  .  ."  Her  eyes 
misted  with  thought,  and  she  said  quite  seri- 
ously: "Why,  Joel,  we  might  find  we  didn't 
like  each  other  at  all.  But  we'd  be  on  the  ship, 
with  no  way  to  get  away  from  it  ...  for  three 
years.  Don't  you  see?" 

Joel  said  calmly:  "That  is  not  so;  because 
we  know  about — liking  each  other,  already.  I 
know  how  it  is  with  you.  It  is  clothes  that 
you  are  thinking  about.  Well,  you  can  get 
them  in  the  stores.  And  you  have  many,  al- 
ready. You  have  new  dresses  whenever  I  see 
you.  .  .  ." 

She  laughed  gayly.  "But,  Joel,  you  only  see 
me  once  in  three  years.  Of  course  I  have  new 
dresses,  then.  But  I  just  couldn't.  .  .  ." 

She  laughed  again,  a  faint  uneasiness  in  her 
laughter.  She  left  his  knee,  and  sat  down  so- 
berly beside  him.  She  was  feeling  a  little 

[38] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

crushed,  smothered  ...  as  though  she  were  be- 
ing pushed  back  against  a  wall.  Joel  said 
steadily : 

"Mr.  Worthen  will  be  glad  to  know  you  go 
with  me.  And  every  one  will  be  glad  for 
you.  .  .  ." 

She  burst,  abruptly,  into  tears.  She  was  mis- 
erable, she  told  him.  He  was  making  her  mis- 
erable. She  hated  to  be  bullied,  and  he  was 
trying  to  bully  her.  She  hated  him.  She 
wouldn't  marry  him.  Never.  He  could  go  off 
on  his  old  ship  and  never  come  back.  That  was 
all.  She  would  not  go ;  and  he  ought  not  to  ask 
her  to,  anyway.  To  prove  how  much  she  hated 
him,  she  nestled  against  his  side,  and  his  arm 
enfolded  her. 

Joel  had  not  the  outward  seeming  of  a  wise 
man ;  nevertheless  he  now  said : 

"The  other  girls  will  all  be  envying  you.  To 
be  married  so  quickly,  and  carried  away  the 

[39] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

very  next  day.  .  .  ."  Her  sobs  miraculously 
ceased,  and  he  smiled  quietly  down  upon  her 
dark  head  against  his  breast.  "Every  one  will 
do  things  for  you.  .  .  .  The  whole  town.  .  .  . 
They  will  come  down  to  see  us  sail  away." 

He  fell  silent,  leaving  his  words  for  her  con- 
sideration. She  remained  very  quiet  against 
his  side  for  a  long  time,  breathing  very  softly. 
He  thought  he  could  almost  read  her 
thoughts.  .  .  . 

"It  will  be,"  he  said,  "like  a  story.  Like  a 
romance."  And  the  word  sounded  strangely  on 
his  sober  lips. 

But  at  the  word,  the  girl  sat  up  quickly,  both 
hands  gripping  his  arm.  He  could  see  her  eyes 
dancing  in  the  moonlight.  .  .  .  "Oh,  Joe," 
she  cried,  "it  would  really  be  just  loads  of 
fun.  And  terribly  romantic.  .  .  .  Wonder- 
ful !"  She  pressed  a  hand  to  her  cheek,  think- 
ing: "And  I  could  .  .  ." 
[40] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

She  could,  she  said,  do  thus  and  so.  ... 
Joel  listened,  and  he  smiled.     For  he  knew 
that  his  bride  would  sail  away  with  him. 


[40 


IV 

IN  the  few  days  that  remained  before  the  Na- 
than Ross  was  to  sail,  there  was  no  time  for 
remodeling  her  cabin  to  accommodate  Priscilla; 
so  that  was  left  for  the  first  weeks  of  the  cruise. 
There  were  matters  enough,  without  it,  to  oc- 
cupy those  last  days.  Little  Priss  was  caught 
up  like  a  leaf  in  the  wind ;  she  was  whirled  this 
way  and  that  in  a  pleasant  and  heart-stirring 
confusion.  And  through  it  all,  her  laughter 
rang  in  the  air  like  the  sound  of  bells.  To 
Joel,  Sunday  night,  she  said:  "Oh,  Joe  .  .  . 
it's  been  an  awful  rush.  But  it's  been  such  fun. 
.  .  .  And  I  never  was  so  happy  in  my  life." 

And  Joel  smiled,  and  said  quietly:     "Yes— 
with  happier  times  to  come." 

[42] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

She  looked  up  at  him  wistfully.  "You'll  be 
good  to  me,  won't  you,  Joel1?"  He  patted  her 
shoulder. 

They  were  married  in  the  big  old  white 
church,  and  every  pew  was  filled.  Afterwards 
they  all  went  down  to  the  piers,  where  Asa 
Worthen  had  spread  long  tables  and  loaded 
them  so  that  they  groaned.  Alongside  lay  the 
Nathan  Ross,  her  decks  littered  with  the  last 
confusion  of  preparation.  Joel  showed  Pris- 
cilla  the  lumber  for  the  cabin  alterations,  ranked 
along  the  rail  beneath  the  boathouse;  and  she 
gripped  his  arm  tight  with  both  hands.  After- 
wards, he  took  Priscilla  up  the  hill  to  the  great 
House  of  Shore.  Rachel  had  prepared  their 
wedding  supper  there.  .  .  . 

At  a  quarter  before  ten  o'clock  the  next  morn- 
ing, the  Nathan  Ross  went  out  with  the  tide. 
When  she  had  cleared  the  dock  and  was  fairly 

[43] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

in  the  stream,  Joel  gave  her  in  charge  of  Jim 
Finch;  and  he  and  Priscilla  stood  in  the  after 
house,  astern,  and  looked  back  at  the  throng 
upon  the  pier  until  the  individual  figures 
merged  into  a  black  mass,  pepper- and-sal ted 
with  color  where  the  women  stood.  They 
could  see  the  handkerchiefs  flickering,  until  a 
turn  of  the  channel  swept  them  out  of  sight  of 
the  town,  and  they  drifted  on  through  the  wid- 
ening mouth  of  the  bay,  toward  the  open  sea. 
At  dusk  that  night,  there  was  still  land  in  sight 
behind  them  and  on  either  side ;  but  when  Pris- 
cilla came  on  deck  in  the  morning,  there  was 
nothing  but  blue  water  and  laughing  waves. 
And  so  she  was  homesick,  all  that  day,  and 
laughed  not  at  all  till  the  evening,  when  the 
moon  bathed  the  ship  in  silver  fire,  and  the 
white-caps  danced  all  about  them. 

The  Nathan  Ross  was  in  no  sense  a  lovely 
ship.     There  was  about  her  none  of  the  poetry 

[44] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

of  the  seas.  She  was  designed  strictly  for  util- 
ity, and  for  hard  and  dirty  toil.  Blunt  she  was 
of  bow  and  stern,  and  her  widest  point  was  just 
abeam  the  foremast,  so  that  she  had  great  shoul- 
ders that  buffeted  the  sea.  These  shoulders 
bent  inward  toward  the  prow  and  met  in  what 
was  practically  a  right  angle ;  and  her  stern  was 
cut  almost  straight  across,  with  only  enough 
overhang  to  give  the  rudder  room.  Further- 
more, her  masts  had  no  rake.  They  stood  up 
stiff  and  straight  as  sore  thumbs;  and  the  bow- 
sprit, instead  of  being  something  near  horizon- 
tal, rose  toward  the  skies  at  an  angle  close  to 
forty-five  degrees.  This  bowsprit  made  the 
Nathan  Ross  look  as  though  she  had  just 
stubbed  her  toe.  She  carried  four  boats  at  the 
davits;  and  two  spare  craft,  bottom  up,  on  the 
boathouse  just  forward  of  the  mizzenmast. 
Three  of  the  four  at  the  davits  were  on  the  star- 
board side,  and  since  they  were  each  thirty  feet 

[45] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

long,  while  the  ship  herself  was  scarce  a  hun- 
dred and  twenty,  they  gave  her  a  sadly  cluttered 
and  overloaded  appearance.  For  the  rest,  she 
was  painted  black,  with  a  white  checkerboard- 
ing around  the  rail ;  and  her  sails  were  smeared 
and  smutty  with  smoke  from  burning  blubber- 
scraps . 

Nevertheless,  she  was  a  comfortable  ship, 
and  a  dry  one.  She  rode  waves  that  would 
have  swept  a  vessel  cut  on  prouder  lines;  and 
she  was  moderately  steady.  She  was  not  fast, 
nor  cared  to  be.  An  easy  five  or  six  knots  con- 
tented her;  for  the  whole  ocean  was  her  hunting 
ground,  and  though  there  were  certain  more 
favored  areas,  you  might  meet  whales  any- 
where. Give  her  time,  and  she  would  poke 
that  blunt  nose  of  hers  right  'round  the  world, 
and  come  back  with  a  net  profit  anywhere  up  to 
a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  in  her 
sweating  casks. 

[46] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Priscilla  Holt  knew  all  these  things,  and  she 
respected  the  Nathan  Ross  on  their  account. 
But  during  the  first  weeks  of  the  cruise,  she  was 
too  much  interested  in  the  work  on  the  cabin  to 
consider  other  matters.  Old  Aaron  Burnham, 
the  carpenter,  did  the  work.  He  was  a  wiry 
little  man,  gray  and  grizzled;  and  he  loved  the 
tools  of  his  craft  with  a  jealous  love  that  for- 
bade the  laying  on  of  impious  hands.  Through 
the  long,  calm  days,  when  the  ship  snored  like 
a  sleep-walker  through  the  empty  seas,  Priscilla 
would  sit  on  box  or  bench  or  floor,  and  watch 
Aaron  at  his  task,  and  ask  him  questions,  and 
listen  to  the  old  man's  long  stories  of  things  that 
had  come  and  gone. 

Sometimes  she  tried  to  help  him;  but  he 
would  not  let  her  handle  an  edged  tool.  "Ye'll 
no  have  the  eye  for  it,"  he  would  say.  "Leave 
it  be."  Now  and  then  he  let  her  try  to  drive  a 
nail ;  but  as  often  as  not  she  missed  the  nail  head 

[47] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

and  marred  the  soft  wood,  until  Aaron  lost  pa- 
tience with  her.  "Mark  you,"  he  cried,  "men 
will  see  the  scar  there,  and  they'll  be  thinking 
I  did  this  task  with  my  foot,  Ma'am." 

And  Priscilla  would  laugh  at  him,  and  curl 
up  with  her  feet  tucked  under  her  skirts  and 
her  chin  in  her  hands,  and  watch  him  by  the 
long  hour  on  hour. 

The  task  dragged  on;  it  seemed  to  her  end- 
less. For  Aaron  had  other  work  that  must  be 
done,  and  he  could  give  only  his  spare  time  to 
this.  Also,  he  was  a  slow  worker,  accustomed 
to  take  his  own  time;  and  when  Priscilla  grew 
impatient  and  scolded  him,  the  old  man  merely 
sat  back  on  his  knees,  and  scratched  his  head, 
and  tapped  thoughtfully  with  his  hammer  on 
the  floor  beside  him. 

"We-ell,  Ma'am,"  he  said,  "I  do  things  so, 
and  I  do  things  so ;  and  it  takes  time,  that  does, 
Ma'am." 

[48] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Now  and  then,  through  those  days,  Priscilla's 
enthusiasm  would  send  her  skittering  up  the 
companion  to  fetch  Joel  to  see  some  new  won- 
der— a  window  set  in  the  stern,  or  a  bench  com- 
pleted, or  a  door  hung.  And  Joel,  looking  far 
oftener  at  Priscilla  than  at  the  object  she  wished 
him  to  consider,  would  chuckle,  and  touch  her 
shoulder  affectionately,  and  go  back  to  his  post. 

In  the  sixth  week,  the  last  nail  had  been 
driven,  and  the  last  lick  of  paint  was  dry.  In 
the  result,  Priscilla  was  as  happy  as  a  bride  has 
a  right  to  be. 

Across  the  very  stern  of  the  ship,  with  win- 
dows looking  out  upon  the  wake,  ran  what 
might  have  been  called  a  sitting  room.  It  was 
perhaps  twenty  feet  wide  and  eight  feet  deep; 
and  its  rear  wall — formed  by  the  overhanging 
stern — sloped  outward  toward  the  ceiling. 
Against  this  slope,  beneath  the  three  windows,  a 
broad,  cushioned  bench  was  built,  to  serve  as 

[49] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

couch  or  seat.  The  bench  was  broken  in  one 
place  to  make  room  for  Joel's  desk,  and  the  cab- 
inet wherein  he  kept  his  records  and  his  instru- 
ments. Priss  had  put  curtains  on  the  windows ; 
and  she  had  a  lily,  in  a  pot,  at  one  of  them,  and 
a  clump  of  pansies  at  another.  Joel's  cabin 
opened  off  this  compartment,  on  the  starboard 
side ;  hers  was  opposite.  The  main  cabin,  with 
its  folding  table  built  about  the  thick  butt  of 
the  mizzenmast,  had  been  extended  forward  to 
make  room  for  the  enlargement  of  this  stern 
apartment;  and  the  mates  were  quartered  off 
this  main  cabin.  The  galley  and  the  store 
rooms  were  on  the  main  deck,  in  the  after  house, 
on  either  side  of  the  awkward  "walking  wheel" 
by  which  the  ship  was  steered;  and  the  cabin 
companion  was  just  forward  of  this  wheel. 

There  were  aboard  the  Nathan  Ross  about 
thirty  men,  all  told ;  but  the  most  of  them  were 
not  of  Priscilla's  world.  The  foremast  hands 

[50] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

never  came  aft  of  the  try  works,  save  on  tasks 
assigned ;  and  the  secondary  officers — boat-steer- 
ers  and  the  like — slept  in  the  steerage  and  kept 
forward  of  the  boathouse.  Thus  the  after  deck 
was  shared  only  by  Priscilla  and  Joel,  the 
mates,  the  cook,  and  old  Aaron,  who  was  a  man 
of  many  privileges. 

This  world,  Priscilla  ruled.  Joel  adored 
her ;  Jim  Finch  gave  her  the  clumsy  homage  of 
a  puppy — and  was  at  times  just  as  oppressively 
amiable.  Old  Aaron  talked  to  her  by  the  hour, 
while  he  went  about  his  work.  And  the  other 
mates — Varde,  the  sullen;  and  Hooper,  who 
was  old  and  losing  his  grip;  and  Dick  Morrell, 
who  was  young  and  finding  his — paid  her  the 
respect  that  was  her  due.  Young  Morrell — 
he  was  not  even  as  old  as  she  was — helped  her 
on  her  first  climb  to  the  mast  head.  He  was 
only  a  boy.  .  .  .  The  girl,  when  the  first  home- 
sick pangs  were  past,  was  happy. 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Until  the  day  they  killed  their  whale,  a  sev- 
enty-barrel cachalot  cow  who  died  as  peaceably 
as  a  chicken,  with  only  a  convulsive  flop  or  two 
when  the  lances  found  the  life.  Priscilla  took 
a  single  glimpse  of  the  shuddering,  bloody,  oily 
work  of  cutting  in  the  carcass,  and  then  she  fled 
to  her  cabin  and  remained  there  steadfastly  un- 
til the  long  task  was  done.  The  smoke  from 
the  bubbling  try  pots,  and  the  persistent  smell 
of  boiling  blubber  sickened  her;  and  the  grime 
that  descended  over  everything  appalled  her 
dainty  soul.  Not  until  the  men  had  cleaned 
ship  did  she  go  on  deck  again;  and  even  then 
she  scolded  Joel  for  the  affair  as  though  it  were 
a  matter  for  which  he  was  wholly  to  blame. 

"There  just  isn't  any  sense  in  making  so  much 
dirt,"  she  told  him.  "I've  had  to  wash  out 
every  one  of  my  curtains ;  and  I  can't  ever  get 
rid  of  that  smell." 

Joel  chuckled.     "Aye,  the  smell  sticks,"  he 

[52] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

agreed.  "But  you'll  be  used  to  it  soon,  Priss. 
You'll  come  to  like  it,  I'm  thinking.  Any  case, 
we'll  not  be  rid  of  it  while  the  cruise  is  on." 

She  was  so  angry  that  she  wanted  to  cry. 
"Do  you  actually  mean,  Joel  Shore,  that  I've 
got  to  live  with  that  sickening,  hot-oil  smell  for 
th- three  years'?" 

He  nodded  slowly.  "Yes,  Priss.  No  way 
out  of  it.  It's  part  of  the  work.  Come  an- 
other month,  and  you'll  not  mind  at  all." 

She  said  positively:  "I  may  not  say  any- 
thing, but  I  shall  always  hate  that  smell." 

His  eyes  twinkled  slowly;  and  she  stamped 
her  foot.  "If  I'd  known  it  was  going  to  be  like 
this,  I  wouldn't  have  come,  Joel.  Now  don't 
you  laugh  at  me.  If  there  was  any  way  to  go 
back,  I'd  go.  I  hate  it.  I  hate  it  all.  You 
ought  not  to  have  brought  me.  .  .  ." 

They  were  on  the  broad  bench  across  the 
stern,  in  their  cabin;  and  he  put  his  big  arm 

[53] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

about  her  shoulders  and  laughed  at  her  till  she 
could  do  no  less  than  laugh  back  at  him.  But 
— she  assured  herself  of  this — she  was  angry, 
just  the  same.  Nevertheless,  she  laughed.  .  .  . 

Joel  had  put  the  Nathan  Ross  on  the  most 
direct  southward  course,  touching  neither  Azores 
nor  Cape  Verdes.  For  it  was  in  his  mind,  as  he 
had  told  Asa  Worthen,  to  make  direct  for  the 
Gilbert  Islands  and  seek  some  trace  of  his 
brother  there.  That  had  been  his  plan  before 
he  left  port;  but  the  plan  had  become  determi- 
nation after  a  word  with  Aaron  Burnham,  one 
day.  Joel,  resting  in  the  cabin  while  old  Aaron 
worked  there,  fell  to  thinking  of  his  brother, 
and  so  asked : 

"Aaron,  what  is  your  belief  about  my  brother, 
Mark  Shore?  Is  he  dead? ' 

Aaron  was  building,  that  day,  the  forward 
partition  of  the  new  cabin,  fitting  his  boards 
meticulously,  and  driving  home  each  nail  with 

[54] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

hammer  strokes  that  seemed  smooth  and  effort- 
less, yet  sank  the  nail  to  the  head  in  an  instant. 
He  looked  up  over  his  shoulder  at  Joel,  between 
nails. 

"Dead,  d'ye  say1?"  he  countered  quizzically. 

Joel  nodded.  "The  Islanders?  Did  they 
do  it,  do  you  believe?" 

Old  Aaron  chuckled  asthmatically.  He  had 
lost  a  fore  tooth,  and  the  effect  of  his  mirth  was 
not  reassuring.  "There's  a  brew  i'  the  Is- 
lands," he  said.  "More  like  'twas  the  island 
brew  nor  the  island  men." 

Joel,  for  a  moment,  sat  very  still  and  con- 
sidered. He  knew  Mark  Shore  had  never 
scrupled  to  take  strong  drink  when  he  chose; 
but  Mark  had  always  been  a  strong  man  to 
match  his  drink,  and  conquer  it.  Said  Joel, 
therefore,  after  a  space  of  thought : 

"Why  do  you  think  that,  Aaron?  Drink 
was  never  like  to  carry  Mark  away." 

[55] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Aaron  squinted  up  at  him.  "Have  ye  sam- 
pled that  island  brew?  'Tis  made  of  pineap- 
ples, or  sago,  or  the  like  outlandish  stuff,  I've 
heard.  And  one  sip  is  deviltry,  and  two  is 
madness,  and  three  is  corruption.  Some  stom- 
achs are  used  to  it;  they  can  handle  it.  But  a 
raw  man  ..." 

There  was  significance  in  the  pause,  and  the 
unfinished  sentence.  Joel  considered  the  mat- 
ter. There  had  always  been,  between  him  and 
Mark,  something  of  that  sleeping  enmity  that  so 
often  arises  between  brothers.  Mark  was  a 
man  swift  of  tongue,  flashing,  and  full  of  laugh- 
ter and  hot  blood ;  a  colorful  man,  like  a  splash 
of  pigment  on  white  canvas.  Joel  was  in  all 
things  his  opposite,  quiet,  and  slow  of  thought 
and  speech,  and  steady  of  gait.  Mark  was  ac- 
customed to  jeer  at  him,  to  taunt  him;  and  Joel, 
in  the  slow  fashion  of  slow  men,  had  resented 

[56] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

this.  Nevertheless,  he  cast  aside  prejudice  now 
in  his  estimate  of  the  situation;  and  he  asked 
old  Aaron : 

"Do  you  know  there  were  Islanders  about  ? 
Or  this  wild  brew  you  speak  of*?" 

Aaron  drove  home  a  nail,  and  with  his  punch 
set  it  flush  with  the  soft  wood.  "There  was 
some  drunken  crew,  shouting  and  screeching  a 
mile  up  the  beach,"  he  said.  "Some  few  of 
them  came  off  to  us  with  fruit.  The  sober  ones. 
'Twas  them  Mark  Shore  went  to  pandander 
with." 

"He  went  to  them?"  Joel  echoed.  Aaron 
nodded. 

"Aye.     That  he  did." 

There  was  a  long  moment  of  silence  before 
Joel  asked  huskily:  "But  was  it  like  that  he 
should  stay  with  them  freely?"  For  it  is  a 
black  and  shameful  thing  that  a  captain  should 

[57] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

desert  his  ship.  When  he  had  asked  the  ques- 
tion, he  waited  in  something  like  fear  for  the 
carpenter's  answer. 

"It  comes  to  me,"  said  Aaron  slowly  at  last, 
"that  you  did  not  well  know  your  brother. 
,Ye'd  only  seen  him  ashore.  And — I'm  doubt- 
ing that  you  knew  all  the  circumstances  of  his 
departure  from  this  ship." 

"I  know  that  he  went  ashore,"  said  Joel. 
"Went  ashore,  and  left  his  men,  and  departed; 
and  I  know  that  they  searched  for  him  three 
weeks  without  a  sign." 

Aaron  sat  back  on  his  heels,  and  rubbed  the 
smooth  head  of  his  hammer  thoughtfully 
against  his  dry  old  cheek.  "I'm  not  one  to 
speak  harm,"  he  said.  "And  I've  said  naught, 
in  the  town.  But — you  have  some  right  to 
know  that  Mark  Shore  was  not  a  sober  man 
when  he  left  the  ship.  I'  truth,  he  had  not 
been  sober — cold  sober — for  a  week.  And  he 

[58] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

left  with  a  bottle  in  his  coat."  He  nodded  his 
gray  old  head,  eyes  not  on  Joel,  but  on  the  ham- 
mer in  his  hand.  "Also,  there  was  a  pearling 
schooner  in  the  lagoon,  with  drunk  white  men 
aboard." 

He  glanced  sidewise  at  Joel  then,  and  saw 
the  Captain's  cheek  bones  slowly  whiten. 
Whereupon  old  Aaron  bent  swiftly  to  his  task, 
half  fearful  of  what  he  had  said.  But  when 
Joel  spoke,  it  was  only  to  say  quietly : 

"Asa  should  have  told  me  this." 

Aaron  shook  his  head  vehemently,  but  with- 
out looking  up  from  his  task.  "Not  so,"  he 
said.  "There  was  no  need  the  town  should 
chew  Mark's  name.  Better — "  He  glanced 
at  Joel.  "Better  if  he  were  thought  dead. 
Asa's  a  good  man,  you  mind.  And — he  knew 
your  father." 

Joel  nodded  at  that.  "Asa  meant  wisest, 
I've  no  doubt,"  he  agreed.  "But — Mark 

[59] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

would  do  nothing  that  he  was  shamed   of." 

"Mark  Shore,"  said  Aaron  thoughtfully,  "did 
many  things  without  shame  for  which  other  men 
would  have  blushit." 

Joel  said  curtly:  "Aaron,  ye'll  say  no  more 
such  things  as  that." 

"Ye' re  right,"  Aaron  agreed.  "I  should  no 
have  said  it.  But — 'tis  so." 

Joel  left  him  and  went  on  deck,  and  his  eyes 
were  troubled.  .  .  .  Priss  was  there,  with  Dick 
Morrell  showing  her  some  trick  of  the  wheel, 
and  they  were  laughing  together  like  children. 
Joel  felt  immensely  older  than  Priss.  .  .  .  Yet 
the  difference  was  scarce  six  years.  .  .  .  She 
saw  him,  and  left  Morrell  and  came  running  to 
Joel's  side.  "Did  you  sleep*?"  she  asked. 
"You  needed  rest,  Joe." 

"I  rested,"  he  told  her,  smiling  faintly. 
'Til  be  fine.  .  .  ." 

[60] 


THEY  drifted  past  Pernambuco,  and 
touched  at  Trinidad,  and  so  worked 
south  and  somewhat  westward  for  Cape  Horn. 
And  in  Joel  grew,  stronger  and  ever,  the  resolve 
to  hunt  out  Mark,  and  find  him,  and  fetch  him 
home.  .  .  .  The  blood  tie  was  strong  on  Joel; 
stronger  than  any  memory  of  Mark's  derision. 
And — for  the  honor  of  the  House  of  Shore,  it 
were  well  to  prove  the  matter,  if  Mark  were 
dead.  It  is  not  well  for  a  Shore  to  abandon 
his  ship  in  strange  seas. 

He  asked  Aaron,  two  weeks  after  their  first 
talk,  whether  they  had  questioned  the  white  men. 
on  the  pearling  schooner. 

"Oh,  aye,"  said  Aaron  cheerfully.  "I  sought 
'em  out,  myself.  Three  of  them,  they  was; 

[61] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

and  ill-favored.  A  slinky  small  man,  and  a 
rat-eyed  large  man,  and  a  fat  man  in  between; 
all  unshaven,  and  filthy,  and  drunken  as  owls. 
They'd  seen  naught  of  Mark  Shore,  they  said. 
I'm  thinking  he'd  let  them  see  but  little  of  him. 
He  had  no  tenderness  for  dirt." 

Joel  told  Priss  nothing  of  what  he  hoped  and 
feared;  nor  did  he  question  Jim  Finch  in  the 
matter.  Finch  was  a  good  man  at  set  tasks,  but 
he  was  too  amiable,  and  he  had  no  clamp  upon 
his  lips.  .  .  .  Joel  did  not  wish  the  word  to  go 
abroad  among  the  men.  He  was  glad  that 
most  of  the  crew  were  new  since  last  voyage; 
but  the  officers  were  unchanged,  save  that  he 
stood  in  his  brother's  shoes. 

They  left  Trinidad  behind  them,  and  shoul- 
dered their  way  southward,  the  blunt  bow  of 
the  Nathan  Ross  battering  the  seas.  And  they 
came  to  the  Straits,  and  worked  in,  and  made 
their  westing  day  by  day,  while  little  Priss, 

[62] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

wide-eyed  on  the  deck,  watched  the  gaunt  cliffs 
past  whose  wave-gnawed  feet  they  stole.  And 
so  at  last  the  Pacific  opened  out  before  them, 
and  they  caught  the  winds,  and  worked  toward 
Easter  Island. 

But  their  progress  was  slow.  To  men  un- 
schooled in  the  patience  of  the  whaling  trade,  it 
would  have  been  insufferably  slow.  For  they 
struck  fish ;  and  day  after  day  they  hung  idle  on 
the  waves  while  the  trypots  boiled;  and  day 
after  day  they  loitered  on  good  whaling 
grounds,  when  the  boats  were  out  thrice  and 
four  times  between  sun's  rise  and  set.  If  Joel 
was  impatient,  he  gave  no  sign.  If  his  desires 
would  have  made  him  hasten  on,  his  duty  held 
him  here,  where  rich  catches  waited  for  the  tak- 
ing; and  while  there  were  fish  to  be  taken,  he 
would  not  leave  them  behind. 

Priscilla  hated  it.  She  hated  the  grime,  and 
the  smoke,  and  the  smell  of  boiling  oil ;  and  she 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

hated  this  dawdling  on  the  open  seas,  with  never 
a  glimpse  of  land.  More  than  once  she  made 
Joel  bear  the  brunt  of  her  own  unrest;  and  be- 
cause it  is  not  always  good  for  two  people  to  be 
too  much  together,  and  because  she  had  nothing 
better  to  do,  she  began  to  pick  Joel  to  pieces  in 
her  thoughts,  and  fret  at  his  patience  and  stolid- 
ity. She  wished  he  would  grow  angry,  wished 
even  that  he  might  be  angry  with  her.  .  .  .  She 
wished  for  anything  to  break  the  long  days  of 
deadly  calm.  And  she  watched  Joel  more  in- 
tently than  it  is  well  for  wife  to  watch  husband, 
or  for  husband  to  watch  wife. 

He  did  so  many  things  that  tried  her  sore. 
He  had  a  fashion,  when  he  had  finished  eating, 
of  setting  his  hands  against  the  table  and  push- 
ing himself  back  from  the  board  with  slow  and 
solid  satisfaction.  She  came  to  the  point  where 
she  longed  to  scream,  when  he  did  this.  When 
they  were  at  table  in  the  main  cabin,  she 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

watched  with  such  agony  of  trembling  nerves 
for  that  movement  of  his  that  she  forgot  to  eat, 
and  could  not  relish  what  she  ate. 

Joel  was  a  man,  and  his  life  was  moving 
smoothly.  His  ship's  casks  were  filling  more 
swiftly  than  he  had  any  right  to  hope ;  his  wife 
was  at  his  side;  his  skies  were  clear.  He  was 
happy,  and  comfortable,  and  well  content. 
Sometimes,  when  they  were  preparing  for  sleep, 
at  night,  in  the  cabin  at  the  stern,  he  would  re- 
lax on  the  couch  there.  But  she  did  not  wish 
for  him  to  put  his  feet  upon  the  cushions;  she 
said  that  his  shoes  were  dirty.  He  offered  to 
take  off  his  shoes ;  and  she  shuddered.  .  .  . 

He  had  a  fashion  of  stretching  and  yawning 
comfortably  as  he  bade  her  good  night;  and 
sometimes  a  yawn  caught  him  in  the  middle  of  a 
word,  and  he  talked  while  he  yawned.  She 
hated  this.  She  was  passing  through  that  hard 
middle  ground,  that  purgatory  between  maiden- 

[65] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

hood  and  wifehood  in  the  course  of  which  mar- 
ried folk  find  each  other  only  human,  after  all. 
And  she  had  not  yet  come  to  accept  this  condi- 
tion, and  to  glory  in  it.  She  had  always 
thought  of  Joel  as  a  hero,  a  protector,  a  fine, 
stalwart,  able,  noble  man.  Now  she  forgot 
that  he  was  commander  of  this  ship  and  master 
of  the  men  aboard  her,  and  saw  in  him  only  a 
man  who,  when  work  was  done,  liked  to  take  his 
ease — and  who  talked  through  his  yawns. 

She  gnawed  at  this  bone  of  discontent,  in  the 
hours  when  Joel  was  busy  with  his  work.  She 
was  furiously  resentful  of  Joel's  flesh-and- 
bloodness.  .  .  .  And  Joel,  because  he  was  too 
busy  to  be  introspective,  continued  calmly 
happy  and  content. 

The  whales  led  them  past  Easter  Island  for 
a  space;  and  then,  abruptly,  they  were  gone. 
Came  day  on  day  when  the  men  at  the  mast- 
head saw  no  misty  spout  against  the  wide  blue 
[66] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

of  the  sea,  no  glistening  black  body  lying  awash 
among  the  waves.  And  the  Nathan  Ross,  with 
all  hands  scrubbing  white  the  decks  again,  bent 
northward,  working  toward  that  maze  of  tiny 
islands  which  dots  the  wide  South  Seas. 

Their  water  was  getting  stale,  and  running 
somewhat  low;  and  they  needed  fresh  food- 
stuffs. Joel  planned  to  touch  at  the  first  land 
that  offered.  Tubuai,  that  would  be.  He 
marked  their  progress  on  the  chart. 

On  the  evening  before  they  would  reach  the 
island,  when  Joel  and  Priss  were  preparing  for 
sleep,  Priss  burst  out  furiously,  like  a  teapot 
that  boils  over.  The  storm  came  without  warn- 
ing, and — so  far  as  Joel  could  see — without 
provocation.  She  was  sick,  she  said,  of  the 
endless  wastes  of  blue.  She  wanted  to  see  land. 
To  step  on  it.  If  she  were  not  allowed  to  do  so 
very  soon,  she  would  die. 

Joel,  at  first,  was  minded  to  tell  her  they 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

would  sight  land  in  the  morning;  then,  with  one 
of  the  blundering  impulses  to  which  husbands 
fall  victim  at  such  moments,  he  decided  to  wait 
and  surprise  her.  So,  instead  of  telling  her,  he 
chuckled  as  though  at  some  secret  jest,  and  tried 
to  quiet  her  by  patting  her  dark  head. 

She  fell  silent  at  his  caress ;  and  Joel  thought 
she  was  appeased.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  she  was 
hating  him  for  having  laughed  at  her;  and  her 
calm  was  ferocious.  He  discovered  this,  too 
late.  .  .  . 

He  had  just  kissed  her  good  night.  She 
turned  her  cheek  to  his  lips ;  and  he  was  faintly 
hurt  at  this.  But  he  only  said  cheerfully: 
"There,  Priss.  .  .  .  You'll  be  all  right  in  the 
morning.  .  .  ." 

He  yawned  in  mid-sentence,  so  that  the  last 

two  or  three  words  sounded  as  though  he  were 

trying  to  swallow  a  large  and  hot  potato  while 

he  uttered  them.     Priss  could  stand  no  more  of 

[68] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

that.     Positively.     So   she   slapped   his    face. 

He  was  amazed;  and  he  stood,  looking  at  her 
helplessly,  while  the  slapped  cheek  grew  red  and 
red.  Priss  burst  into  tears,  stamped  her  foot, 
called  him  names  she  did  not  mean,  and  as  a 
climax,  darted  into  her  own  cabin,  and  swung 
the  door,  and  snapped  the  latch. 

Joel  did  not  in  the  least  understand;  and  he 
went  to  his  bunk  at  last,  profoundly  troubled. 

An  hour  after  they  anchored,  the  next  day,  at 
Tubuai,  a  boat  came  out  from  shore  and  ran 
alongside,  and  Mark  Shore  swung  across  the 
rail,  aboard  the  Nathan  Ross. 


VI 

JOEL  was  below,  in  the  cabin  with  Priss, 
when  his  brother  boarded  the  ship.  Varde 
and  Dick  Morrell  had  gone  ashore  for  water 
and  supplies,  and  Priss  was  to  go  that  after- 
noon, with  Joel.  She  was  sewing  a  ribbon  ro- 
sette upon  the  hat  she  would  wear,  when  she  and 
Joel  heard  the  sound  of  excited  voices,  and  the 
movement  of  feet  on  the  deck  above  their  head. 
He  left  her,  curled  up  on  the  cushioned  bench, 
with  the  gay  ribbon  in  her  hands,  and  went  out 
through  the  main  cabin,  and  up  the  companion. 
He  had  been  trying,  clumsily  enough,  to  make 
friends  with  Priss;  but  she  was  very  much  on 
her  dignity  that  morning.  .  .  . 

When  his  head  rose  above  the  level  of  the 
cabin  skylight,  he  saw  a  group  of  men  near  the 

[70] 


All  the  Er  others  Were  Valiant 

rail,  amidships.  Finch,  and  Hooper,  and  old 
Aaron  Burnham,  and  two  of  the  harpooners,  all 
pressing  close  about  another  man.  .  .  .  Finch 
obscured  this  other  man  from  Joel's  view,  until 
he  climbed  up  on  deck.  Then  he  caw  that  the 
other  man  was  his  brother. 

He  went  forward  to  join  them;  and  it 
chanced  that  at  first  no  one  of  them  looked  in 
his  direction.  Mark's  back  was  half-turned; 
but  Joel  could  see  that  his  brother  was  lean,  and 
bronzed  by  the  sun.  And  he  wore  no  hat,  and 
his  thick,  black  hair  was  rumpled  and  wild. 
The  white  shirt  that  he  wore  was  open  at  the 
throat  above  his  brown  neck.  His  arms  were 
bare  to  the  elbows.  His  chest  was  like  a  bar- 
rel. There  was  a  splendor  of  strength  and 
vigor  about  the  man,  in  the  very  look  of  him, 
and  in  his  eye,  and  his  voice,  and  his  laughter. 
He  seemed  to  shine,  like  the  sun.  .  .  . 

Joel,  as  he  came  near  them,  heard  Mark 

[71] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

laugh  throatily  at  something  Finch  had  said; 
and  he  heard  Finch  say  unctuously :  "Be  sure, 
Captain  Shore,  every  man  aboard  here  is 
damned  glad  you've  come  back  to  us.  You 
were  missed,  missed  sore,  sir." 

Mark  laughed  again,  at  that ;  and  he  clapped 
Jim's  fat  shoulder.  The  action  swung  him 
around  so  that  he  saw  Joel  for  the  first  time. 
Joel  thrust  out  his  hand. 

"Mark,  man!  They  said  you  were  dead," 
he  exclaimed. 

Mark  Shore's  eyes  narrowed  for  an  instant, 
in  a  quick,  appraising  scrutiny  of  his  brother. 
"Dead?"  he  laughed,  jeeringly.  "Do  I  look 
dead?"  He  stared  at  Joel  more  closely, 
glanced  at  the  other  men,  and  chuckled.  "By 
the  Lord,  kid,"  he  cried,  "I  believe  old  Asa  has 
put  you  in  my  shoes." 

Joel  nodded.  "He  gave  me  command  of  the 
Nathan  Ross.  Yes." 

[72] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Mark  looked  sidewise  at  big  Jim  Finch,  and 
grinned.  "Over  your  head,  eh,  Jim*?  Too 
damned  bad !" 

Finch  grinned.  "I  had  no  wish  for  the  place, 
sir.  You  see,  I  felt  very  sure  you  would  be 
coming  back  to  your  own." 

Mark  tilted  back  his  head  and  laughed. 
"You  were  always  a  very  cautious  man,  Jim 
Finch.  Never  jumped  till  you  were  sure  where 
you  would  land."  He  wheeled  on  Joel. 
"Well,  boy — how  does  it  feel  to  wear  long 
pants?" 

Joel,  holding  his  anger  in  check,  said  slowly : 
"We've  done  well.  Close  on  eight  hundred 
barrel  aboard." 

Mark  wagged  his  head  in  solemn  reproof. 
"Joey,  Joey,  you've  been  fiddling  away  your 
time.  I  can  see  that !" 

Over  his  brother's  shoulder,  Joel  saw  the 
grinning  face  of  big  Jim  Finch,  and  his  eyes 

[73] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

hardened.  He  said  quietly:  "If  that's  your 
tone,  Mark,  you'll  call  back  your  boat  and  go 
ashore." 

A  flame  surged  across  Mark's  cheek;  and  he 
took  one  swift,  terrible  step  toward  his  brother. 
But  Joel  did  not  give  ground;  and  after  a  mo- 
ment in  which  their  eyes  clashed  like  swords, 
Mark  relaxed,  and  laughed  and  bowed  low. 

"I  was  wrong,  grievously  wrong,  Captain 
Shore,"  he  said  sonorously.  "I  neglected  the 
respect  due  your  office.  Your  high  office,  sir. 
I  thank  you  for  reminding  me  of  the — the  pro- 
prieties, Captain."  And  he  added,  in  a  differ- 
ent tone,  "Now  will  you  not  invite  me  aft  on 
your  ship,  sir?" 

Joel  hesitated  for  a  bare  instant,  caught  by  a 
vague  foreboding  that  he  could  not  explain. 
But  in  the  end  he  nodded,  as  though  in  answer 
to  the  unspoken  question  in  his  thoughts. 
"Will  you  come  down  into  the  cabin,  Mark?" 

[74] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

he  invited  quietly.  "I've  much  to  ask  you; 
and  you  must  have  many  things  to  tell." 

Mark  nodded.  "I  will  come,"  he  said;  and 
his  eyes  lighted  suddenly,  and  he  dropped  a 
hand  on  Joel's  shoulder.  "Aye,  Joel,"  he  said 
softly,  into  his  brother's  ear,  as  they  went  aft 
together.  "Aye,  I've  much  to  tell.  Many 
things  and  marvelous.  Matters  you'd  scarce 
credit,  Joel."  Joel  looked  at  him  quickly,  and 
Mark  nodded.  "True  they  are,  Joel,"  he  cried 
exultantly.  "Marvelous — and  true  as  good, 
red  gold." 

At  the  tone,  and  the  eager  light  in  his  broth- 
er's eyes,  Joel's  slow  pulses  quickened,  but  he 
said  nothing.  At  the  top  of  the  cabin  compan- 
ion, he  stepped  aside  to  let  Mark  descend  first; 
and  Mark  went  down  the  steep  and  awkward 
stair  with  the  easy,  sliding  gait  of  a  great  cat. 
Joel,  behind  him,  could  see  the  muscles  stir  and 
swell  upon  his  shoulders.  In  the  cabin,  Mark 

[75] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

halted  abruptly,  and  looked  about,  and  ex- 
claimed: "You've  changed  things,  Joel.  I'd 
not  know  the  ship." 

The  door  into  Priscilla's  cabin,  across  the 
stern,  was  open.  Priss  had  finished  that  matter 
of  the  ribbon,  and  was  watering  her  flowers, 
kneeling  on  the  bench,  when  she  heard  Mark's 
voice,  and  knew  it.  And  she  cried,  in  surprise 
and  joy:  "Mark!  Oh— Mark!"  And  she 
ran  to  the  door,  and  stood  there,  framed  for 
Mark's  eyes  against  the  light  behind  her,  hands 
holding  to  the  door  frame  on  either  side. 

Mark  cried  delightedly:  "Priss  Holt!" 
And  he  was  at  her  side  in  an  instant,  and  caught 
her  without  ceremony,  and  kissed  her  roundly, 
as  he  had  been  accustomed  to  do  when  he  came 
home  from  the  sea.  But  he  must  have  been  a 
blind  man  not  to  have  seen  in  that  first  moment 
that  Priss  was  no  longer  child,  but  woman. 

[76] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

And  Mark  was  not  blind.  He  kissed  her  till 
she  laughingly  fought  herself  free. 

"Mark !"  she  cried  again.  "You're  not  dead. 
I  knew  you  couldn't  be.  .  .  ." 

Joel,  behind  them,  at  sight  of  Priscilla  in  his 
brother's  arms,  had  stirred  with  a  quick  rush  of 
anger;  but  he  was  ashamed  of  it  in  the  next  mo- 
ment, and  stood  still  where  he  was.  Mark  held 
Priss  by  the  shoulders,  laughing  down  at  her. 

"And  how  did  you  know  I  couldn't  be  dead  2" 
he  demanded.  "Miss  Wise  Lady." 

She  moved  her  head  confusedly.  "Oh — you 
were  always  so — so  alive,  or  something.  .  .  . 
You  just  couldn't  be.  .  .  ." 

He  chuckled,  released  her,  and  stood  away 
and  surveyed  her.  "Priss,  Priss,"  he  said  con- 
tritely, "you're  not  a  little  kid  any  longer. 
Dresses  down,  and  hair  up.  .  .  ."  He  wagged 
his  head.  "It's  a  wonder  you  did  not  slap  my 

[77] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

face."  And  then  he  looked  from  her  to  Joel, 
and  abruptly  he  tossed  his  great  head  back  and 
laughed  aloud.  "By  the  Lord,"  he  roared. 
"The  children  are  married.  Married  .  .  ." 

Priscilla  flushed  furiously,  and  stamped  her 
foot  at  him.  "Of  course  we're  married,"  she 
cried.  "Did  you  think  I'd  come  clear  around 
the  world  with  .  .  ."  Her  words  were  smoth- 
ered in  her  own  hot  blushes,  and  Mark  laughed 
again,  until  she  cried :  "Stop  it.  I  won't  have 
you  laughing  at  us.  Joel — make  him  stop !" 

Mark  sobered  instantly,  and  he  backed  away 
from  Joel  in  mock  panic,  both  hands  raised,  de- 
fensively, so  that  they  laughed  at  him.  When 
they  laughed,  he  cast  aside  his  panic,  and  sat 
down  on  the  cushions,  stretching  his  legs  luxuri- 
ously before  him.  "Now,"  he  exclaimed. 
"Tell  me  all  about  it.  When,  and  why,  and 
how4?" 

Priss  dropped  on  the  bench  beside  him,  feet 

[78] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

tucked  under  her  in  the  miraculous  fashion  of 
small  women;  and  she  enumerated  her  answers 
on  the  pink  tips  of  her  fingers.  "When?"  she 
repeated.  "The  day  before  we  sailed.  Why? 
Just  because.  How?  In  the  same  old  way." 
She  waved  her  hand,  as  though  disposing  of  the 
matter  once  and  for  all,  and  looked  up  at  him, 
and  laughed.  Joel  thought  she  had  not  seemed 
so  completely  happy  since  the  day  the  cabin  was 
finished.  "So,"  she  said,  "that's  all  there  is  to 
tell  you  about  us.  Tell  us  about  you." 

Mark's  eyes  twinkled.  "Ah,  now,  what's  the 
use?  That  will  come  later.  Besides — some 
chapters  are  not  for  gentle  ears."  He  nodded 
toward  Joel.  "So  you  love  the  boy,  yonder?" 

Priss  bobbed  her  head,  red  lips  pursed,  eyes 
dancing. 

"Why?"  Mark  demanded.  "What  do  you 
discover  in  him?" 

She  looked  at  Joel,  and  they  laughed  together 

[79] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

as  though  at  some  delightful  secret,  mutually 
shared.  Mark  wagged  his  head  dolorously. 
"And  I  suppose  he's  wild  about  you?"  he  asked. 

She  nodded  more  vigorously  than  ever. 

Mark  rubbed  his  hands  together.  He  looked 
at  Joel,  with  a  faintly  malicious  twinkle  in  his 
eyes.  "Well,  now !"  he  exclaimed.  "That  is 
certainly  the  best  of  news.  .  .  ."  Joel  saw  the 
mocking  and  malignant  little  devil  in  his  eye. 
"I've  never  had  a  kid  sister,'*  said  Mark  gayly. 
"And  it's  been  the  great  sorrow  of  my  life, 
Priss.  So,  Joel,  you  must  expect  Priss  and 
myself  to  turn  out  the  very  best  of  friends." 

And  Priscilla,  on  the  seat  beside  him,  nodded 
her  lovely  head  once  more.  "I  should  say  so," 
she  exclaimed. 


[80] 


VII 

MARK  SHORE  held  something  like  a  re- 
ception, on  the  Nathan  Ross,  all  that 
first  day.  He  went  forward  among  the  men 
to  greet  old  friends  and  meet  new  ones,  and 
came  back  and  complimented  Joel  on  the  qual- 
ity of  his  crew.  "You've  made  good  men  of 
them,"  he  said.  "Those  that  weren't  good  men 
before." 

He  listened,  with  a  smile  half  contemptuous, 
to  Jim  Finch's  somewhat  slavish  phrases  of  wel- 
come and  admiration;  and  he  talked  with 
Varde,  the  morose  second  mate,  so  gayly  that 
even  Varde  was  cozened  at  last  into  a  grin. 
Old  Hooper  was  pathetically  glad  to  see  him. 
Hooper  had  been  mate  of  the  ship  on  which 
Mark  started  out  as  a  boy ;  and  he  liked  to  hark 

[81] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

back  to  those  days.  Young  Dick  Morrell,  on 
his  trips  from  the  shore,  save  Mark  frank  wor- 
ship. 

Joel  saw  all  this.  He  could  not  help  seeing 
it.  And  he  told  himself,  again  and  again,  that 
it  was  only  to  be  expected.  Mark  had  cap- 
tained this  ship,  had  captained  these  men,  on 
their  last  cruise;  they  had  thought  him  dead. 
It  was  only  natural  that  they  should  welcome 
him  back  to  life  again.  .  .  . 

But  even  while  he  gave  himself  this  reas- 
surance, he  knew  that  it  was  untrue.  There 
was  more  than  mere  welcome  in  the  attitude  of 
the  men;  there  was  more  than  admiration. 
There  was  a  quality  of  awe  that  was  akin  to 
worship;  and  there  was,  beneath  this  awe,  a 
lively  curiosity  as  to  what  Mark  would  do.  ... 
They  knew  him  for  a  quick  man,  dominant,  one 
with  the  will  to  lead;  and  now  he  found  him- 
self supplanted,  dependent  on  the  word  of  his 

[82] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

own  younger  brother.  .  .  .  Every  one  knew 
that  Mark  and  Joel  had  always  been  rather  ene- 
mies than  comrades;  so,  now,  they  wondered, 
and  waited,  and  watched  with  all  their  eyes. 
Joel  saw  them,  by  twos  and  threes,  whispering 
together  about  the  ship;  and  he  knew  what  it 
was  they  were  asking  each  other. 

Of  all  those  on  the  Nathan  Ross  that  day, 
Mark  himself  seemed  least  conscious  of  the  dra- 
matic possibilities  of  the  situation.  He  was 
glad  to  be  back  among  friends ;  but  beyond  that 
he  did  not  go.  He  gave  Joel  an  exaggerated 
measure  of  respect,  so  extreme  that  it  was  worse 
than  scorn  or  mockery.  Otherwise,  he  took  no 
notice  of  the  potentialities  created  by  his  return. 

Priss  had  planned  to  go  ashore  in  the  after- 
noon; but  Mark  dissuaded  her.  This  was  not 
difficult;  he  did  it  so  laughingly  and  so  dex- 
trously  that  Priss  changed  her  mind  without 
knowing  just  why  she  did  so.  Mark  took  it 

[83] 


All  the  Br -others  Were  Valiant 

upon  himself  to  make  up  for  her  disappoint- 
ment; they  were  together  most  of  the  long,  hot 
afternoon.  Joel  could  hear  their  laughter  now 
and  then. 

He  had  expected  to  go  ashore  with  Priss ;  but 
when  she  came  to  him  and  said :  "Joe,  Mark 
says  it's  just  dirty  and  hot  and  ugly,  ashore,  and 
I'm  not  going,"  he  changed  his  mind.  There 
was  no  need  of  his  making  the  trip,  after  all. 
Varde  and  Morrell  had  brought  out  water,  tow- 
ing long  strings  of  almost-filled  casks  behind 
their  boats ;  and  boats  from  the  shore  had  come 
off  to  sell  fresh  food.  So  at  dusk,  the  anchor 
came  up,  and  the  Nathan  Ross  spread  her  dingy 
sails,  and  stalked  out  of  the  harbor  with  the  ut- 
most dignity  in  every  stiff  line  of  her,  and  the 
night  behind  them  swallowed  up  the  island. 
Mark  and  Priss  were  astern  to  watch  it  blend  in 
the  darkness  and  lose  itself;  and  Priss,  when 
their  last  glimpse  of  it  faded,  heard  the  man 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

draw  a  deep  breath  of  something  like  relief. 
She  looked  up  at  him  with  wide,  curious  eyes. 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked  softly.  "Were  you 
— unhappy  there?" 

Mark  laughed  aloud.  "My  dear  Priss,"  he 
said,  in  the  elder-brother  manner  he  affected  to- 
ward her.  "My  dear  Priss,  the  South  Sea  Is- 
lands are  no  place  for  a  white  man,  especially 
when  he  is  alone.  I'm  glad  to  get  back  in  the 
smell  of  oil,  with  an  honest  deck  underfoot. 
And  I  don't  mind  saying  so." 

Priss  shuddered,  and  wrinkled  her  nose. 
"Ugh,  how  I  hate  that  smell,"  she  exclaimed. 
"But,  Mark — tell  me  where  you've  been,  and 
what  you  did,  and — everything.  Why  won't 
you  tell?" 

He  wagged  his  head  at  her  severely.  "Chil- 
dren," he  said,  "should  be  seen  and  not  heard." 

She  stamped  her  foot.  "I'm  not  a  child. 
I'm  a  woman." 

[85] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

He  bent  toward  her  suddenly,  his  dark  eyes 
so  close  to  hers  that  she  could  see  the  flickering 
flame  which  played  in  them,  and  the  twist  of  his 
smile.  "I  wonder!"  he  whispered.  "Oh — I 
wonder  if  you  are.  .  .  ." 

She  was  frightened,  deliciously.  .  .  . 

Mark  had  persisted,  all  day  long,  in  his  re- 
fusal to  tell  her  of  himself.  He  had  dropped  a 
sentence  now  and  then  that  brought  to  life  in 
her  imagination  a  strange,  wild  picture.  .  .  . 
But  always  he  set  a  bar  upon  his  lips,  caught 
back  the  words,  refused  to  explain  what  it  was 
he  had  meant  to  say.  When  she  persisted,  he 
laughed  at  her  and  told  her  he  only  did  it  to  be 
mysterious.  "Mystery  is  always  interesting, 
you  understand,"  he  explained.  "And — I  wish 
to  be  very  interesting  to  you,  Priss." 

She  looked  around  the  after  deck  for  Joel; 
but  he  was  below  in  the  cabin,  and  she  decided, 
abruptly,  that  she  must  go  down.  .  .  . 
[86] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

They  had  bought  chickens  at  Tubuai,  and 
they  had  two  of  them,  boiled,  for  supper  that 
night  in  the  cabin.  It  was  a  feast,  after  the 
long  months  of  sober  diet ;  and  the  presence  of 
Mark  made  it  something  more.  He  was  a  good 
talker,  and  without  revealing  anything  of  the 
months  of  his  disappearance,  he  nevertheless 
told  them  stories  that  held  each  one  breathless 
with  interest.  But  after  supper,  he  went  on 
deck  with  Finch,  and  Joel  and  Priss  sat  in  the 
cabin  astern  for  a  while;  and  Joel  wrote  up,  in 
the  ship's  log,  the  story  of  his  brother's  return. 
Priss  read  it  over  his  shoulder,  and  afterwards 
she  clung  close  to  Joel.  "He's  a  terribly — 
overwhelming  man,  isn't  he  2"  she  whispered. 

Joel  looked  down  at  her,  and  smiled  thought- 
fully. "Aye,  Mark's  a  big  man,"  he  agreed. 
"Big — in  many  ways.  But — you'll  be  used  to 
him  presently,  Priss." 

When  she  prepared  to  go  to  bed,  he  bade  her 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

good  night  and  left  her,  and  went  on  deck ;  and 
Priss,  in  her  narrow  bunk  in  the  cabin  at  the  side 
of  the  ship,  lay  wide-eyed  with  many  thoughts 
stirring  in  her  small  head.  She  was  still  awake 
when  she  heard  them  come  down  into  the  main 
cabin  together,  Joel  and  Mark.  The  walls 
were  thin;  she  could  hear  their  words,  and  she 
heard  Mark  ask:  "Sure  Priss  is  asleep *? 
There  are  parts — not  for  the  pretty  ears  of  a 
bride,  Joel." 

Priss  was  not  asleep,  but  when  Joel  came  to 
see,  she  closed  her  eyes,  and  lay  as  still  as  still, 
scarce  breathing.  Joel  bent  over  her  softly; 
and  he  touched  her  head,  clumsily,  with  his 
hand,  and  patted  it,  and  went  away  again,  clos- 
ing her  door  behind  him.  She  heard  him  tell 
Mark:  "Aye,  she's  fast  asleep." 

The  brothers  sat  by  Joel's  desk,  in  the  cabin 
across  the  stern;  and  Mark,  without  preamble, 
told  his  story  there.  Priss,  ten  feet  away,  heard 
[88] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

every  word;  and  she  lay  huddled  beneath  the 
blankets,  eyes  staring  upward  into  the  darkness 
of  her  cabin ;  and  as  she  listened,  she  shuddered 
and  trembled  and  shrank  at  the  terror  and  won- 
der and  ugliness  of  the  tale  he  told.  No  Des- 
demona  ever  listened  with  such  half-caught 
breath. 


VIII 

blaming  me,"  said  Mark,  when 
he  and  Joel  were  puffing  at  their  pipes, 
"for  leaving  my  ship." 

Joel  said  slowly:  "No.  But  I  do  not  un- 
derstand it." 

Mark  laughed,  a  soft  and  throaty  laugh. 
"You  would  not,  Joel.  You  would  not.  For 
you  never  felt  an  overwhelming  notion  that  you 
must  dance  in  the  moon  upon  the  sand. 
You've  never  felt  that,  Joel;  and — I  have." 

"I'm  not  a  hand  for  dancing,"  said  Joel. 

Mark  seemed  to  forget  that  his  brother  sat 
beside  him.  His  eyes  became  misty  and 
thoughtful,  as  though  he  were  living  over  again 
the  days  of  which  he  spoke.  "Mind,  Joel,"  he 
said,  "there's  a  pagan  in  every  man  of  us.  And 

[90] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

there's  two  pagans  in  some  of  us.  And  I'm 
minded,  Joel,  that  there  are  three  of  them  in 
me.  'Twas  so,  that  night." 

"It  was  night  when  you  left  the  ship4?" 
"Aye,  night.  Night,  and  the  moon;  and  it 
may  have  been  that  I  had  been  drinking  a  drop 
or  two.  Also,  as  you  shall  see,  I  was  not  well. 
I  tell  these  things,  not  by  way  of  excuse  and 
palliation;  but  only  so  that  you  may  under- 
stand. D'ye  see?  I  was  three  pagans  in  one 
body,  and  that  body  witched  by  moon,  and 
twisted  by  drink,  and  trembling  with  fever. 
And  so  it  was  I  went  ashore,  and  flung  my  men 
behind  me,  and  went  off,  dancing,  along  the 
hard  sand. 

"That  was  a  night,  Joel.  A  slow- winded, 
warm,  trembling  night  when  there  was  a  song  in 
the  very  air.  The  wind  tingled  on  your  throat 
like  a  woman's  finger  tips ;  and  the  sea  was  sing- 
ing at  the  one  side,  and  the  wind  in  the  palms  on 

[91] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

the  other.  And  ahead  of  me,  the  wild,  discord- 
ant chanting  of  the  Islanders  about  their  fires. 
.  .  .  That  singing  it  was  that  got  me  by  the 
throat,  and  led  me.  I  twirled  around  and 
around,  very  solemnly,  by  myself  in  the  moon- 
light on  the  sand;  and  all  the  time  I  went  on- 
ward toward  the  fires.  .  .  . 

"I  remember,  when  I  came  in  sight  of  the 
fires,  I  threw  away  my  coat  and  ran  in  among 
them.  And  they  scattered,  and  yelled  their 
harsh,  meaningless,  throaty  yells.  And  they 
hid  in  the  bush  to  stare  at  me  by  the  fire.  .  .  . 
They  hid  in  the  rank,  thick  grasses.  All  ex- 
cept one,  Joel." 

Joel,  listening,  watched  his  brother  and  saw 
through  his  brother's  eyes ;  for  he  knew,  for  all 
his  slow  blood,  the  witchery  of  those  warm, 
southern  nights. 

"The  moon  was  on  her,"  said  Mark.  "The 
moon  was  on  her,  and  there  was  a  red  blossom 

[92] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

in  her  hair,  and  some  strings  of  things  that 
clothed  her.  A  little  brown  girl,  with  eyes  like 
the  eyes  of  a  deer.  And — not  afraid  of  me. 
That  was  the  thing  that  got  me,  Joel.  She 
stood  in  my  path,  met  me,  watched  me;  and 
her  eyes  were  not  afraid.  .  .  . 

"She  was  very  little.  She  was  only  a  child. 
I  suppose  we  would  call  her  sixteen  or  seventeen 
years  old.  But  they  ripen  quickly,  Joel — these 
Island  children.  Her  little  shoulders  were  as 
smooth  and  soft.  .  .  .  You  could  not  even  mark 
the  ridge  of  her  collar  bones,  she  was  fleshed  so 
sweetly.  She  stood,  and  watched  me;  and  the 
others  crept  out  of  the  grasses,  at  last,  and  stood 
about  us.  And  then  this  little  brown  girl  held 
up  her  hand  to  me,  and  pointed  me  out  to  the 
others,  and  said  something.  I  did  not  know 
what  it  was  that  she  said;  but  I  know  now. 
She  said  that  I  was  sick. 

"I  did  not  know  then  that  I  was  sick.     When 

[93] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

she  lifted  her  hand  to  me,  I  caught  it ;  and  I  be- 
gan to  lead  her  in  a  wild  dance,  in  the  moon- 
light, about  their  dying  fires.  I  could  see  them, 
in  the  shadows,  their  eyeballs  shining  as  they 
watched  us.  ...  And  they  seemed,  after  a  lit- 
tle, to  move  about  in  a  misty,  inhuman  fashion ; 
and  they  twisted  into  strange,  cloud-like  shapes. 
And  I  stopped  to  laugh  at  them,  and  my  head 
dropped  down  before  I  could  catch  it  and  struck 
against  the  earth,  and  the  earth  forsook  me, 
Joel,  and  left  me  swimming  in  nothing  at 
all.  .  . 

"My  memory  was  a  long  time  in  coming  back 
to  me,  Joel.  It  would  peep  out  at  me  like  a 
timid  child,  hiding  among  the  trees.  I  would 
see  it  for  an  instant;  then  'twould  be  gone. 
But  I  know  it  must  have  been  many  days  that  I 
was  on  the  island  there.  And  I  knew,  after 
a  time,  that  I  was  most  extremely  sick;  and  the 
little  brown  girl  put  cool  leaves  on  my  head, 

[94] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

and  gave  me  strange  brews  to  drink,  and  rubbed 
and  patted  my  chest  and  my  body  with  her 
hands  in  a  fashion  that  was  immensely  comfort- 
able and  strengthening.  And  I  twisted  on  a 
bed  of  coarse  grass.  .  .  .  And  I  remember  sing- 
ing, at  times.  .  .  ." 

He  looked  toward  Joel,  eyes  suddenly  flam- 
ing. "Eh,  Joel,  I  tell  you  I  was  not  three 
pagans,  but  six,  in  those  days.  The  thing's 
clear  beyond  your  guessing,  Joel.  But  it  was 
big.  An  immense  thing.  I  was  back  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  world,  with  food,  and  drink,  and 
my  woman.  ...  It  was  big,  I  tell  you.  Big !" 

His  eyes  clouded — he  fell  silent,  and  so  at 
last  went  on  again.  "I  was  asleep  one  night, 
tossing  in  my  sleep.  And  something  woke  me. 
And  I  laid  my  hand  on  the  spot  beside  me  where 
the  little  brown  girl  used  to  lie,  and  she  was 
gone.  So  I  got  up,  unsteadily.  There  were 
rifles  snapping  in  the  night;  and  there  were 

[95] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

screams.  And  I  heard  a  white  man's  black 
curse;  and  the  slap  of  a  blow  of  flesh  on  flesh. 
And  the  screams. 

"So  I  went  that  way;  and  the  sounds  re- 
treated before  me,  until  I  came  out,  unsteadily, 
upon  the  open  beach.  There  was  no  moon,  that 
night;  and  the  water  of  the  lagoon  was  shot 
with  fire.  And  there  was  a  boat,  pulling  away 
from  the  beach,  with  screaming  in  it. 

"I  swam  after  the  boat  for  a  long  time,  for  I 
thought  I  had  heard  the  voice  of  the  little  brown 
girl.  The  water  was  full  of  fire.  When  I 
lifted  my  arms,  the  fire  ran  down  them  in 
streams  and  drops.  And  sometimes  I  forgot 
what  I  was  about,  and  stopped  to  laugh  at  these 
drops  of  fire.  But  in  the  end,  I  always  swam 
on.  I  remember  once  I  thought  the  little  brown 
girl  swam  beside  me,  and  I  tried  to  throw  my 
arm  about  her,  and  she  wrenched  away,  and  she 
burned  me  like  a  brand.  I  found,  afterwards, 

[96] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

what  that  was.  My  breast  and  sides  were 
rasped  and  raw  where  a  shark's  rough  skin  had 
scraped  them.  I've  wondered,  Joel,  why  the 
beast  did  not  take  me.  .  .  . 

"But  lie  did  not;  for  I  bumped  at  last  into 
the  boat,  and  climbed  into  it,  and  it  was  empty. 
But  I  saw  a  rope  at  the  end  of  it,  and  I  pulled 
the  rope,  and  came  to  the  schooner's  stern,  and 
climbed  aboard  her." 

His  voice  was  ringing,  exultantly  and 
proudly.  "I  swung  aboard,"  he  said.  "And 
I  stumbled  over  fighting  bodies  on  the  deck, 
astern  there.  And  some  one  cried  out,  in  the 
waist  of  her ;  and  I  knew  it  was  the  little  brown 
girl.  So  I  left  those  struggling  bodies  at  the 
stern,  for  they  were  not  my  concern ;  and  I  went 
forward  to  the  waist.  And  I  found  her  there. 

"A  fat  man  had  her.  She  was  fighting  him; 
and  he  did  not  see  me.  And  I  put  my  fingers 
quietly  into -his  neck,  from  behind;  and  when  he 

[97] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

no  longer  kicked  back  at  me,  and  no  longer  tore 
at  my  fingers  with  his,  I  dropped  him  over  the 
side.  I  saw  a  fiery  streak  in  the  water  where  I 
dropped  him.  That  shark  was  not  so  squeam- 
ish as  the  one  I  had — embraced.  It  may  have 
been  the  other  was  embarrassed  at  my  ways, 
Joel.  D'ye  think  that  might  have  been  the 
way  of  it?' 

Joel's  knuckles  were  white,  where  his  hand 
rested  on  his  knee.  Mark  saw,  and  laughed 
softly.  "There's  blood  in  you,  after  all,  boy," 
he  applauded.  "I've  hopes  for  you." 

Joel  said  slowly:  "What  then?  What 
then,  Mark?" 

Mark  laughed.  "Well,  that  was  a  very- 
funny  thing,"  he  said.  "You  see,  the  other  two 
men,  they  were  busy,  astern,  with  their  own  con- 
cerns. And  when  I  had  comforted  the  little 
brown  girl,  and  sat  down  on  the  deck  to  laugh 
at  the  folly  of  it  all,  she  slipped  away  from  me, 

[98] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

and  went  aft,  and  got  all  their  rifles.  She 
brought  them  to  me.  She  seemed  to  expect 
things  of  me.  So  I,  still  laughing,  for  the  fever 
was  on  me;  I  took  the  rifles  and  threw  them, 
all  but  one,  over  the  side.  And  I  went  down 
into  the  cabin,  with  the  little  brown  girl,  and 
went  to  bed;  and  she  sat  beside  me,  with  the 
rifle,  and  a  lamp  hanging  above  the  door.  .  .  . 

"And  that  was  all  that  happened,  until  I 
woke  one  morning  and  saw  her  there,  and  won- 
dered where  I  was.  And  my  head  was  clear 
again.  She  made  me  understand  that  the  men 
had  sought  to  come  at  me,  but  had  feared  the 
rifle  in  her  hands.  .  .  . 

"And  we  were  in  the  open  sea,  as  I  could  feel 
by  the  labor  of  the  schooner  underfoot.  So  I 
took  the  rifle  in  the  crook  of  my  arm,  and  with 
the  little  brown  girl  at  my  heel,  I  went  up  on 
deck.  And  we  made  a  treaty." 

He    fell    silent    for   a   moment,    and    Joel 

[99] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

watched  him,  and  waited.  And  at  last,  Mark 
went  on. 

"I  had  been  more  than  a  month  on  the  is- 
land," he  said.  "The  Nathan  Ross  had  gone. 
This  schooner  was  a  pearler,  and  they  had  the 
location  of  a  bed  of  shell.  They  had  been 
waiting  till  another  schooner  should  leave  the 
place,  to  leave  their  own  way  clear.  And  when 
that  time  came,  they  went  ashore  to  get  the 
brown  women  for  companions  on  that  cruise. 
And  they  made  the  mistake  of  picking  up  my 
little  brown  girl,  when  she  ran  out  of  the  hut. 
And  so  brought  me  down  upon  them. 

"There  were  two  of  them  left;  two  whites, 
and  three  black  men  forward,  who  were  of  no 
account.  And  the  other  two  women.  These 
other  two  were  chattering  together,  on  the  deck 
astern,  when  I  appeared.  They  seemed  con- 
tent enough.  .  .  . 

"The  men  were  not  happy.  There  was  a 
[  100  ] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

large  man  with  slanting  eyes.  There  was  Ori- 
ental blood  in  him.  You  could  see  that.  He 
called  himself  Quint.  But  his  eyes  were  Jap, 
or  Chinese ;  and  he  had  their  calm,  blank  screen 
across  his  countenance,  to  hide  what  may  have 
been  his  thoughts.  Quint,  he  called  himself. 
And  he  was  a  big  man,  and  very  much  of  a  man 
in  his  own  way,  Joel. 

"The  other  was  little,  and  he  walked  with  a 
slink  and  a  grin.  His  name  was  Fetcher.  And 
he  was  oily  in  his  speech. 

"When  they  saw  me,  they  studied  me  for  a 
considerable  time  without  speech.  And  I  stood 
there,  with  the  rifle  in  my  arm,  and  laughed  at 
them.  And  at  last,  Quint  said  calmly : 

"  'You  took  Farrell.' 

"  The  fat  man?  I  asked  him.  He  nodded. 
'Yes,5  I  said.  'He  took  my  girl,  and  so  I 
dropped  him  into  the  water,  and  a  friend  met 
him  there  and  hurried  him  away.' 

[101] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

"  'Your  girl?'  he  echoed,  in  a  nasty  way. 
'You're  that,  then?' 

"  'Am  I?  I  asked,  and  shifted  the  rifle  a 
thought  to  the  fore.  And  his  eyes  held  mine 
for  a  space,  and  then  he  shook  his  head. 

"  'I  see  that  I  was  mistaken/  he  said. 

"  'Your  sight  is  good,'  I  told  him.  'Now — 
what  is  this?  Tell  me.' 

"He  told  me,  evenly  and  without  malice. 
They  had  a  line  on  the  pearls;  there  were 
enough  for  three.  I  was  welcome.  And  at  the 
end,  I  nodded  my  consent.  The  Nathan  Ross 
was  gone.  Furthermore,  there  were  nine  pa- 
gans in  me  now;  and  the  prospect  of  looting 
some  still  lagoon,  in  company  with  these  two 
rats,  had  a  wild  flavor  about  it  that  caught  me. 
My  blood  was  burning;  and  the  sun  was  hot. 
Also,  they  had  liquor  aboard  her.  Liquor,  and 
loot,  and  the  three  women.  Pagan,  Joel.  Pa- 
gan! But  wild  and  red  and  raw.  There's  a 
[102] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

glory  about  such  things.  .  .  .  Songs  are  made 
of  them.  .  .  .  There  was  no  handshaking;  but 
we  made  alliance,  and  crowded  on  sail,  and 
went  on  our  way." 

He  stopped  short,  laughed,  filled  his  pipe 
again,  watched  Joel.  "You're  shocked  with 
me,  boy.  I  can  see  it,"  he  taunted  mockingly. 
Joel  shook  his  head.  "Will  you  hear  the  rest?" 
Mark  asked;  and  Joel  nodded.  Mark  lighted 
his  pipe,  laughed.  .  .  .  His  fingers  thrummed 
on  the  desk  beside  him. 

"We  were  a  week  on  the  way,"  he  said. 
"And  all  pagan,  every  minute  of  the  week. 
Days  when  we  fought  a  storm — as  bad  as  I've 
ever  seen,  Joel.  We  fought  it,  holding  to  the 
ropes  with  our  teeth,  bare  to  the  waist,  with  the 
wind  scourging  us.  It  tore  at  us,  and  lashed  at 
us.  ...  And  we  drove  the  three  black  men 
with  knives  to  their  work.  And  the  three 
women  stayed  below,  except  my  little  brown 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

girl.  She  came  up,  now  and  then,  with  dry 
clothes  for  me.  .  .  .  And  I  had  to  drive  her  to 
shelter.  .  .  . 

"And  when  there  was  not  the  storm,  there 
was  liquor;  and  they  had  cards.  We  staked 
our  shares  in  the  catch  that  was  to  come.  .  .  . 
Hour  on  hour,  dealing,  and  playing  with  few 
words ;  and  our  eyes  burned  hollow  in  their  sock- 
ets, and  Quint's  thin  mouth  twisted  and  writhed 
all  the  time  like  a  worm  on  a  pin.  He  was  a 
nervous  man,  for  all  his  calm.  A  very  nervous 
man.  .  .  . 

"The  fifth  day,  one  of  the  blacks  stumbled 
in  Quint's  path,  on  deck.  Quint  had  been  los- 
ing, at  the  cards.  He  slid  a  knife  from  his 
sleeve  into  the  man's  ribs,  and  tipped  the  black 
over  the  rail  without  a  word.  I  was  twenty 
feet  away,  and  it  was  done  before  I  could  catch 
breath.  I  shouted;  and  Quint  turned  and 
looked  at  me,  and  he  smiled. 
[104] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

"  'What  is  it?'  he  asked.  'Have  you  objec- 
tions to  present?'  And  the  smeared  blade  in 
his  hand,  and  the  bubbles  still  rising,  overside. 
I  was  afraid  of  the  man,  Joel.  I  tell  you  I  was 
afraid.  The  only  time.  Fear's  a  pagan  joy, 
boy.  It  was  like  a  new  drink  to  me.  I  nursed 
it,  eating  it.  And  I  shook  my  head,  humble. 

"  'No  objections,'  I  said,  to  Quint.  '  Tis 
your  affair.' 

"  'That  was  my  thought,'  he  agreed,  and 
passed  me,  and  went  astern.  I  stood  aside  to 
let  him  pass,  and  trembled,  and  laughed  for  the 
joy  of  my  fear. 

"And  then  we  came  to  the  lagoon,  and  the 
blacks  began  to  dive.  Only  the  two  we  had; 
and  there  was  no  sign  of  Islanders,  ashore. 
But  the  water  was  shallow,  and  we  worked  the 
men  with  knives,  and  they  got  pearls.  Some- 
times one  or  two  in  a  day;  sometimes  a  dozen. 
Do  you  know  pearls,  Joel?  They're  sweet  as  a 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

woman's  skin.     I  had  never  seen  them,  before. 
And  we  all  went  a  little  mad  over  them.  .  .  . 

"They  made  Fetcher  hysterical.  He  laughed 
too  much.  They  made  Quint  morose.  They 
made  me  tremble.  .  .  ." 

He  wiped  his  hand  across  his  eyes,  as  though 
the  memory  wearied  him;  and  he  moved  his 
great  shoulders,  and  looked  at  Joel,  and 
laughed.  "But  it  could  not  last,  in  that  fash- 
ion," he  said.  "It  might  have  been  anything. 
It  turned  out  to  be  the  women.  I  said  they 
seemed  content.  They  did.  But  that  may  be 
the  way  of  the  blacks.  They  have  a  happy 
habit  of  life ;  they  laugh  easily.  .  .  . 

"At  any  rate,  we  found  one  morning  that 
Quint's  girl  was  gone.  She  was  not  on  the 
schooner;  and  ashore,  we  found  her  tracks  in 
the  sand.  She  had  gone  into  the  trees.  And 
we  beat  the  island,  and  we  did  not  find  her. 
And  Quint  sweated.  All  that  day. 

[106] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

"That  night,  he  looked  at  my  little  brown 
girl,  and  touched  her  shoulder.  I  was  across 
the  deck,  the  girl  coming  to  me  with  food.  I 
said  to  him :  'No.  She's  mine,  Quint.'  And 
he  looked  at  me,  and  I  beat  him  with  my  eyes. 
And  as  his  turned  from  mine,  Fetcher  and  his 
woman  came  on  deck,  and  Quint  tapped 
Fetcher,  and  said  to  him :  'What  will  you  take 
for  her?' 

"Fetcher  laughed  at  him;  and  Quint  scowled. 
And  I — for  I  was  minded  to  see  sport,  came 
across  to  them  and  said:  Tlay  for  her. 
Play  for  her!' 

"Fetcher  was  willing;  because  he  had  the 
blood  that  gambles  anything.  Quint  was  will- 
ing, because  he  was  the  better  player.  They 
sat  down  to  the  game,  in  the  cabin,  after  sup- 
per. Poker.  Cold  hands.  Nine  of  them. 
Winner  of  five  to  win.  .  .  . 

"Fetcher  got  two,  lost  four,  got  two  more.     I 

[107] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

was  dealing.  Card  by  card,  face  upward.  I 
remember  those  hands.  And  my  little  brown 
girl,  and  the  other,  watching  from  the  corner. 

"The  hands  on  the  table  grew,  card  by  card, 
Fetcher  got  an  ace,  Quint  a  deuce.  Fetcher  a 
queen,  Quint  a  seven.  Fetcher  a  jack,  Quint  a 
six.  Fetcher  a  ten,  Quint  a  ten.  Only  the 
last  card  to  come  to  each.  If  Fetcher  paired 
any  card,  he  would  win.  His  card  came  first. 
It  was  a  seven.  He  was  ace,  queen  high. 
Quint  had  deuce,  six,  seven,  ten.  He  had  to 
get  a  pair  to  win.  .  .  . 

"I  saw  Quint's  hand  stir,  beneath  the  table; 
and  I  glimpsed  a  knife  in  it.  But  before  I 
could  speak,  or  stir,  Fetcher  dropped  his  own 
hand  to  his  trouser  leg,  and  I  knew  he  kept  a 
blade  there.  ...  So  I  laughed,  and  dealt 
Quint's  last  card.  .  .  . 

"A  deuce.  He  had  a  pair,  enough  to 
win.  .  .  . 

[108] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

"He  leaned  back,  laughing  grimly;  and 
Fetcher's  knife  went  in  beneath  the  left  side  of 
his  jaw,  where  the  jugular  lies.  Quint  looked 
surprised,  and  got  up  out  of  his  chair  and  lay 
down  quietly  across  the  table.  I  heard  the 
bubbling  of  his  last  breath.  .  .  .  Then  Fetcher 
laughed,  and  called  his  woman,  and  they  took 
Quint  on  deck  and  tipped  him  overside.  The 
knife  had  been  well  thrown.  Fetcher  had 
barely  moved  his  wrist.  ...  I  was  much  im- 
pressed with  the  little  man,  and  told  my  brown 
girl  so.  But  she  was  frightened,  and  I  com- 
forted her." 

He  was  silent  again  for  a  time,  pressing  the 
hot  ashes  in  his  pipe  with  his  thumb.  The 
water  slapped  the  broad  stern  of  the  ship  be- 
neath them,  and  Joel's  pipe  was  gurgling. 
There  was  no  other  sound.  Little  Priss,  nails 
biting  her  palms,  thought  she  would  scream  if 
the  silence  held  an  instant  more.  .  .  . 

[109] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

But  Mark  laughed  softly,  and  went  on. 

"Fetcher  and  I  worked  smoothly  together," 
he  said.  "The  little  man  was  very  pleasant 
and  affable;  and  I  met  him  half  way.  The 
blacks  brought  up  the  shells,  and  we  idled 
through  the  days,  and  played  cards  at  night. 
We  divided  the  take,  each  day;  so  our  stakes 
ran  fairly  high.  But  luck  has  a  way  of  balanc- 
ing. On  the  day  when  we  saw  the  end  in  sight, 
we  were  fairly  even.  .  .  . 

"Fetcher,  and  the  blacks  and  I  went  ashore  to 
get  fruit  from  the  trees  there.  Plenty  of  it 
everywhere;  and  we  were  running  short.  We 
went  into  the  brush  together,  very  pleasantly; 
and  he  fell  a  little  behind.  I  looked  back,  and 
his  knife  brushed  my  neck  and  quivered  in  a 
tree  a  yard  beyond  me.  So  I  went  back  and 
took  him  in  my  hands.  He  had  another  knife 
— the  little  man  fairly  bristled  with  them.  But 

[110] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

it  struck  a  rib,  and  before  he  could  use  it  again, 
his  neck  snapped. 

"So  that  I  was  alone  on  the  schooner,  with 
the  two  blacks,  and  Fetcher's  woman,  and  the 
little  brown  girl. 

"Fetcher's  woman  went  ashore  to  find  him 
and  never  came  back.  And  I  decided  it  was 
time  for  me  to  go  away  from  that  place.  The 
pagans  were  dying  in  me.  I  did  not  like  that 
quiet  little  island  any  more. 

"But  the  next  morning,  when  I  looked  out 
beyond  the  lagoon,  another  schooner  was  com- 
ing in.  So  I  was  uncomfortable  with  Fetcher's 
pearls,  as  well  as  mine,  in  my  pocket.  There 
are  some  hard  men  in  these  seas,  Joel;  and  I 
knew  none  of  them  would  treasure  me  above  my 
pearls.  So  I  planned  a  story  of  misfortune,  and 
I  went  ashore  to  hide  my  pearls  under  a  rock. 

"The  blacks  had  brought  me  ashore.     I  went 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

out  of  their  sight  to  do  what  I  had  to  do;  and 
when  I  came  back,  after  hiding  the  pearls,  I  saw 
them  rowing  very  swiftly  toward  the  schooner. 
And  they  looked  back  at  me  in  a  fearful  way. 
I  wondered  why ;  and  then  four  black  men  came 
down  on  me  from  behind,  with  knives  and  clubs. 

"I  had  a  very  hard  day,  that  day.  They 
hunted  me  back  and  forth  through  the  island — I 
had  not  even  a  knife  with  me — and  I  met  them 
here  and  there,  and  suffered  certain  contusions 
and  bruises  and  minor  cuts.  Also,  I  grew  very 
tired  of  killing  them.  They  were  wiry,  but 
they  were  small,  and  died  easily.  So  I  was 
glad,  when  from  a  point  where  they  had  cor- 
nered me  I  saw  the  little  brown  girl  rowing  the 
big  boat  toward  me. 

"She  was  alone.     The  blacks  were  afraid  to 

come,  I  thought.     But  I  found  afterward  that 

this  was  not  true.     They  could  not  come;  for 

they  had  tried  to  seize  the  schooner  and  go 

[112] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

quickly  away  from  that  place,  and  the  little 
brown  girl  had  drilled  them  both.  She  had  a 
knack  with  the  rifle.  .  .  . 

"I  waded  to  meet  the  boat,  and  she  tossed 
me  the  gun.  I  held  them  off  for  a  little,  while 
we  drew  away  from  the  shore.  But  when  we 
were  thirty  or  forty  yards  off,  I  heard  rifles  from 
the  other  schooner,  firing  past  us  at  the  blacks 
in  the  bush;  and  the  girl  stopped  rowing.  So 
I  turned  around  and  saw  that  one  of  the  balls 
from  the  other  schooner  had  struck  her  in  the 
back.  So  I  sat  there,  in  the  sun,  drifting  with 
the  wind,  and  held  her  in  my  arms  till  she 
coughed  and  died. 

"Then  I  went  out  to  the  other  schooner  and 
told  them  they  were  bad  marksmen.  They  had 
only  been  passing  by,  for  copra;  and  the  story 
I  told  them  was  a  shocking  one.  They  were 
much  impressed,  and  they  seemed  glad  to  get 
away.  But  the  blacks  were  still  on  shore,  so 

[113] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

that  I  could  not  go  back  for  the  pearls;  and  I 
worked  the  schooner  out  by  myself,  and  shaped 
a  course.  .  .  . 

"I  came  to  Tubuai,  alone  thus,  a  day  before 
you,  Joel." 


IX 

FOR  a  long  time  after  Mark's  story  ended, 
the  two  brothers  sat  still  in  the  cabin, 
puffing  at  their  pipes,  thinking.  .  .  .  Mark 
watched  Joel,  waiting  for  tfye  younger  man  to 
speak.  And  Joel's  thoughts  ranged  back,  and 
picked  up  the  tale  in  the  beginning,  and  fol- 
lowed it  through  once  more.  .  .  . 

They  were  silent  for  so  long  that  little  Priss, 
in  the  cabin,  drifted  from  waking  dreams  to 
dreams  in  truth.  The  pictures  Mark's  words 
had  conjured  up  merged  with  troubled  phanta- 
sies, and  she  twisted  and  cried  out  softly  in  her 
sleep  so  that  Joel  went  in  at  last  to  be  sure  she 
was  not  sick.  But  while  he  stood  beside  her, 
she  passed  into  quiet  and  untroubled  slumber,, 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

and  he  came  back  and  sat  down  with  Mark 
again. 

"You  brought  the  schooner  into  Tubuai?"  he 
asked. 

"Aye.  Alone.  Half  a  thousand  miles. 
There's  a  task,  Joel." 

"And  left  it  there  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

Mark  smiled  grimly.  "It  was  known  there," 
he  said  quietly.  "Also,  the  three  whom  I  had 
found  aboard  it  were  known.  And  they  had 
friends  in  Tubuai,  who  wondered  what  had 
come  to  them.  I  was  beginning  to — find  their 
questions  troublesome — when  the  Nathan  Ross 
came  in." 

"They  will  ask  more  questions  now,"  said 
Joel. 

"They  must  ask  them  of  the  schooner;  and — 
she  does  not  speak,"  Mark  told  him. 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Joel  was  troubled  and  uncertain.  "It's — a 
black  thing,"  he  said. 

'They'll  not  be  after  me,  if  that  distresses 
you,"  Mark  promised  him.  "Curiosity  does 
not  go  to  such  lengths  in  these  waters." 

"You  told  no  one?" 

Mark  laughed.  "The  pearls  were — my  own 
concern.  You're  the  first  I've  told."  He 
watched  his  brother.  Joel  frowned  thought- 
fully, shook  his  head. 

"You  plan  to  go  back  for  them?"  he  asked. 

"You  and  I,"  said  Mark  casually.  Joel 
looked  at  him  in  quick  surprise;  and  Mark 
laughed.  "Yes,"  he  repeated.  "You  and  I. 
I  am  not  selfish,  Joel.  Besides — there  are 
plenty  for  two." 

Joel,  for  an  instant,  found  no  word;  and 
Mark  leaned  quickly  toward  him.  He  tapped 
Joel's  knee.  "We'll  work  up  that  way,"  he 
said  quietly.  "When  we  come  to  the  island, 

[117] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

you  and  I  go  ashore,  and  get  them  where 
they're  hid  beneath  the  rock;  and  we  come  back 
aboard  with  no  one  any  wiser.  .  .  .  Rich.  A 
double  handful  of  them,  Joel.  .  .  ." 

Joel's  eyes  were  clouded  with  thought;  he 
shook  his  head  slowly.  "What  of  the  blacks'?" 
he  asked. 

Mark  laughed.  "They  were  brought  down 
on  us  by  the  woman  who  got  away,"  he  said. 
"Quint's  woman.  I  heard  as  much  that  day, 
saw  her  among  them.  But — they're  gone  be- 
fore this." 

Joel  said  slowly :  "You  are  not  sure  of  that. 
And — I  cannot  risk  the  ship.  .  .  ." 

Mark  asked  sneeringly:     "Are  you  afraid*?" 

The  younger  man  flushed ;  but  he  said  stead- 
ily: "Yes.  Afraid  of  losing  Asa  Worthen's 
ship  for  him." 

Mark  chuckled  unpleasantly.  "I'm  minded 
of  what  is  written,  here  and  there,  in  the  'Log 

[us] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

of  the  House  of  Shore,'  "  he  said,  half  to  him- 
self. And  he  quoted:  "  'All  the  brothers  were 
valiant.  .  .  .'  There's  more  to  that,  Joel, 
'And  all  the  sisters  virtuous.'  I  had  not  knowi\ 
we  had  sisters — but  it  seems  you're  one,  boy. 
Not  valiant,  by  your  own  admission;  but  at 
least  you're  fairly  virtuous." 

Joel  paid  no  heed  to  the  taunt.  "Asa 
Worthen  likes  care  taken  of  his  ship,"  he  said, 
half  to  himself.  "I'm  thinking  he  would  not 
think  well  of  this.  .  .  .  He's  not  a  man  to 
gamble.  .  .  ." 

"Gamble4?"  Mark  echoed  scornfully.  "He 
has  no  gamble  in  this.  The  pearls  are  for  you 
and  me.  He  will  know  nothing  whatever 
about  them.  A  handful  for  me,  and  a  handful 
for  you,  Joel.  For  the  taking.  ..." 

"You  did  not  think  to  give  him  owner's 
lay4?"  Joel  asked. 

"No." 

[119] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

"Where  is  this  island?" 

Mark  laughed.  "I'll  not  be  too  precise — un- 
til I  have  your  word,  Joel.  But — 'tis  to  the 
northward." 

"Our  course  is  west,  then  south." 

"Since  when  has  the  Nathan  Ross  kept  sched- 
ule and  time  table  like  a  mail  ship?" 

Joel  shook  his  head.     "I  cannot  do  it,  Mark." 

"Why  not?" 

"A  risk  I  have  no  right  to  take;  and  wasted 
weeks,  out  of  our  course.  For  which  Asa 
Worthen  pays." 

Mark  smiled  sardonically.  "You're  vastly 
more  virtuous  than  any  sister  could  be,  Joel, 
my  dear." 

Joel  said  steadily:  "There  may  be  two 
minds  about  that.  There  may  be  two  minds  as 
to — the  duty  of  a  captain  to  his  ship  and  his 
owner.  But — I've  shown  you  my  mind  in  the 


matter." 


[120] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Mark  leaned  toward  him,  eyes  half-friendly. 
"You're  wrong,  Joel.  I'll  convince  you." 

"You'll  not." 

"A  handful  of  them,"  Mark  whispered. 
"Worth  anything  up  to  a  hundred  thousand. 
Maybe  more.  I  do  not  know  the  little  things 
as  well  as  some.  All  for  a  little  jog  out  of  your 
way.  .  .  ." 

Joel  shook  his  head.  And  Mark,  in  a  sud- 
den surge  of  anger,  stormed  to  his  feet  with 
clenched  hand  upraised.  "By  the  Lord,  Joel, 
I'd  not  have  believed  it.  You're  mad;  plain 
mad — sister,  dear !  You.  .  .  ." 

Joel  said  quietly:  "Your  schooner  is  at 
Tubuai.  I'll  set  you  back  there,  if  you  will." 

Mark  mocked  him.  "Would  you  throw 
your  own  brother  off  the  ship  he  captained? 
...  Oh  hard,  hard  heart.  .  .  ." 

"You  may  stay,  or  go,"  Joel  told  him. 
"Have  your  way." 

[121] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Mark's  eyes  for  an  instant  narrowed;  they 
turned  toward  the  door  of  the  cabin  where  Priss 
lay.  .  .  .  And  there  was  a  flicker  of  black  ha- 
tred in  them,  but  his  voice  was  suave  when  he 
replied :  "With  your  permission,  captain  dear, 
I'll  stay." 

Joel  nodded;  he  rose.  "Young  Morrell  has 
given  you  his  bunk,"  he  said.  "So — good 
night,  to  you." 

He  opened  the  door  into  the  main  cabin ;  and 
Mark,  his  fingers  twitching,  went  out.  He 
turned,  spoke  over  his  shoulder.  "Good  night; 
and — pleasant  dreams,"  he  said. 


[122] 


X 

EVEN  Joel  Shore  saw  the  new  light  in 
Priscilla's  eyes  when  she  met  Mark  at 
breakfast  in  the  cabin  next  morning;  and  it  is 
said  husbands  are  the  last  to  see  such  things. 

That  story  she  had  heard  the  night  before, 
the  story  Mark  told  Joel  in  the  after  cabin,  had 
made  of  him  something  superhuman  in  her  eyes. 
He  was  a  gigantic,  an  epic  figure;  he  had  lived 
red  life,  and  fought  for  his  life,  and  killed.  .  .  . 
There  was  Puritan  blood  in  Priscilla ;  but  over- 
running it  was  a  flood  of  warmer  life,  a  cross- 
strain  from  some  southern  forebear,  which  sang 
now  in  answer  to  the  touch  of  Mark's  words. 
She  watched  him,  that  morning,  with  wide  eyes 
that  were  full  of  wonder  and  of  awe. 

Mark  saw,  and  was  immensely  amused.     He 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

asked  her:     "Why  do  you  look  at  me  like  that, 
little  sister4?     I'm  not  going  to  bite.  .  .  ." 

Priscilla  caught  herself,  and  smiled,  and 
laughed  at  him.  "How  do  I  look  at  you? 
You're — imagining  things,  Mark." 

"Am  I?"  he  asked.  And  he  touched  Joel's 
arm.  "Look  at  her,  Joel,  and  see  which  of  us 
is  right." 

Joel  was  eating  his  breakfast  silently,  but  he 
had  seen  Priscilla's  eyes.  He  looked  toward 
her  now,  and  she  flushed  in  spite  of  herself, 
and  got  up  quickly,  and  slipped  away.  .  .  . 
They  watched  her  go,  Joel's  eyes  clouded 
thoughtfully,  Mark's  shining.  And  when  she 
was  gone,  Mark  leaned  across  and  said  to  Joel 
softly,  a  devil  of  mischief  in  his  eyes:  "She 
heard  my  tale  last  night,  Joel.  She  was  not 
asleep.  Fooled  you.  .  .  ." 

Joel  shook  his  head.  "No.  She  was 
asleep." 

[124] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Mark  laughed.  "Don't  you  suppose  I  know. 
I've  seen  that  look  in  woman's  eyes  before.  In 
the  eyes  of  the  little  brown  girl,  the  night  I 
dropped  the  fat  man  overside.  .  .  ." 

He  sat  there,  chuckling,  when  Joel  got  ab- 
ruptly to  his  feet  and  went  on  deck;  and  when 
he  came  up  the  companion  a  little  later,  he  was 
still  chuckling  under  his  breath. 

After  that  first  morning,  Priss  was  able  to 
cloak  her  eyes  and  hide  her  thoughts;  and  on 
the  surface,  life  aboard  the  Nathan  Ross  seemed 
to  go  on  as  before.  Mark  threw  himself  into 
the  routine  of  the  work,  mixing  with  the  men, 
going  off  in  the  boats  when  there  was  a  whale  to 
be  struck,  doing  three  men's  share  of  toil.  Joel 
one  day  remonstrated  with  him.  "It  is  not 
wise,"  he  said.  "You  were  captain  here;  you 
are  my  brother.  It  is  not  wise  for  you  to  mix, 
as  an  equal,  with  the  men." 

Mark  only  laughed  at  him.     "Your  dignity 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

is  very  precious  to  you,  Joel,"  he  mocked 
"But  as  for  me — I  am  not  proud.  You'd  not 
have  me  sit  aft  and  twiddle  my  thumbs  and 
hold  yarn  for  little  Priss.  .  .  .  And  I  must  be 
doing  something.  .  .  ." 

He  and  Jim  Finch  were  much  together. 
Finch  always  gave  Joel  careful  obedience,  al- 
ways handled  the  ship  when  he  was  in  charge 
with  smooth  efficiency.  His  boat  was  the  best 
manned  and  the  most  successful  of  the  four. 
But  he  and  Joel  were  not  comradely.  Joel  in- 
stinctively disliked  the  big  man;  and  Finch's 
servility  disgusted  him.  The  mate  was  full  of 
smooth  and  flattering  words,  but  his  eyes  were 
shallow. 

Mark  talked  with  him  long,  one  morning; 
and  then  he  left  Finch  and  came  to  Joel,  by  the 
after  house,  chuckling  as  though  at  some  enor- 
mous jest.  "Will  ye  look  at  Finch,  there?" 
he  begged. 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Joel  had  been  watching  the  two.  He  saw 
Finch  now,  standing  just  forward  of  the  boat 
house  with  flushed  cheeks  and  eyes  fixed  and 
hands  twitching.  The  big  man  was  powerfully 
moved  by  something.  .  .  .  "What  is  it  that's 
got  him?"  Joel  asked. 

"I've  told  him  about  the  pearls,"  Mark 
chuckled.  "He's  wild  to  be  after  them.  .  .  ." 

Joel  turned  on  his  brother  hotly.  "You're 
mad,  Mark,"  he  snapped.  "That  is  no  word  to 
be  loose  in  the  ship." 

"I've  but  told  Finch,"  Mark  protested. 
"It's  mirthful  to  watch  the  man  wiggle." 

"He'll  tell  the  ship.  His  tongue  wags  un- 
ceasingly." 

Mark  lifted  his  shoulders.  "Tell  him  to  be 
silent.  You  should  keep  order  on  your  ship, 
Joel." 

Joel  beckoned,  and  Finch  came  toward  them. 
As  he  came,  he  fought  for  self  control;  and 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

when  he  stood  before  them,  his  lips  were  twist- 
ing into  something  like  a  smile,  and  his  eyes 
were  shifty  and  gleaming.  Joel  said  quietly : 

"Mr.  Finch,  my  brother  says  he  has  told  you 
his  story." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Finch.  "An  extraordinary 
adventure,  Captain  Shore." 

"I  think  it  best  the  men  should  know  nothing 
about  it,"  Joel  told  him.  "You  will  please 
keep  it  to  yourself." 

Finch  grinned.  "Of  course,  sir.  There's  no 
need  they  should  have  any  share  in  them." 

Joel  flushed  angrily.  "We  are  not  going 
after  them.  I  consider  it  dangerous,  and  un- 


wise." 


Over  Finch's  fat  cheeks  swept  a  twitching 
grimace  of  dismay.  "But  I  thought.  ..." 
He  looked  at  Mark,  and  Mark  was  chuckling. 
"It's  so  easy,  sir,"  he  protested.  "Just  go,  and 
get  them.  .  .  .  Rich.  .  .  ." 

[128] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Joel  shook  his  head.  "Keep  silent  about  the 
matter,  Finch." 

Finch  slowly  bowed  his  head,  and  he  smirked 
respectfully.  "Very  well,  Captain  Shore,"  he 
agreed.  "You  always  know  best,  sir." 

He  turned  away ;  and  after  a  little  Mark  said 
softly:  "You  have  him  well  trained,  Joel. 
Like  a  little  dog.  ...  I  wonder  that  you  can 
handle  men  so.  .  .  ." 

Two  days  later,  Joel  knew  that  either  Finch 
or  Mark  had  told  the  tale  anew.  Young  Dick 
Morrell  came  to  him  with  shining  eyes.  "Is  it 
true,  sir,  that  we're  going  after  the  pearls  your 
brother  hid?"  he  asked.  "I  just  heard.  .  .  .", 

Joel  gripped  the  boy's  arm.  "Who  told 
you?" 

Morrell  twisted  free,  half  angry,  "I — over- 
heard it,  sir.  Is  it  true?" 

"No,"  said  Joel.  "We're  a  whaler,  and  we 
stick  to  our  trade." 

[129] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Dick  lifted  both  hands,  in  a  gesture  almost 
pleading.  "But  it  would  be  so  simple, 
sir.  .  .  ." 

"Keep  the  whole  matter  quiet,  Morrell,"  Joel 
told  him.  "I  do  not  wish  the  men  to  know  of 
it.  And  if  you  hear  any  further  talk,  report  it 
to  me." 

Morrell's  eyes  were  sulky.  He  said  slowly: 
"Yes,  sir."  The  set  of  his  shoulders,  as  he 
stalked  forward,  seemed  to  Joel  defiant.  .  .  . 

Within  the  week,  the  whole  ship  knew  the 
story.  Old  Aaron  Burnham,  repairing  a  bunk 
in  the  fo'c's'le,  heard  the  men  whispering  the 
thing  among  themselves.  "Tongues  hissing 
like  little  serpents,  sir,"  he  told  Joel,  in  the 
cabin  that  night.  "All  of  pearls,  and  women, 
and  the  like.  .  .  .  And  a  shine  in  their 
eyes.  .  .  ." 

"Thanks,  Aaron,"  Joel  said.  "I'm  sorry  the 
men  know.  .  .  ." 

[130] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

"Aye,  they  know.  Be  sure  of  that,"  Aaron 
repeated,  with  bobbing  head.  "And  they're 
roused  by  what  they  know.  Some  say  you're 
going  after  the  pearls,  and  aim  to  fraud  them  of 
their  lay.  And  some  say  you're  a  mad  fool  that 
will  not  go.  .  .  ." 

Joel's  fist,  on  the  table,  softly  clenched. 
"What  else?"  he  asked. 

Aaron  watched  him  sidewise.  "There  was  a 
whisper  that  you  might  be  made  to  go.  .  .  ." 

Priscilla  saw,  that  night,  that  Joel  was  trou- 
bled. She  and  Mark  were  together  on  the  cush- 
ioned seat  in  the  after  cabin,  and  Joel  sat  at  his 
desk,  over  the  log.  Mark  was  telling  Priss  an 
expurgated  version  of  some  one  of  his  adven- 
tures ;  and  Joel,  looking  once  or  twice  that  way, 
saw  the  quick-caught  breath  in  her  throat, 
saw  her  tremulous  interest.  .  .  .  And  his  eyes 
clouded,  so  that  when  Priscilla  chanced  to  look 
toward  him,  she  saw,  and  cried : 

[130 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

"Joel!  What's  the  matter?  You  look 
so.  .  .  ." 

He  looked  from  one  of  them  to  the  other  for 
a  space;  and  then  his  eyes  rested  on  Mark's,  and 
he  said  slowly :  "It's  in  my  mind  that  I'd  have 
done  best  to  set  you  ashore  at  Tubuai,  Mark." 

Mark  laughed;  but  Priss  cried  hotly: 
"Joel!  What  a  perfectly  horrible  thing  to 
say!"  Her  voice  had  grown  deeper  and  more 
resonant  of  late,  Joel  thought.  It  was  no 
longer  the  voice  of  a  girl,  but  of  a  woman.  .  .  . 
Mark  touched  her  arm. 

"Don't  care  about  him,"  he  told  her. 
"That's  only  brotherly  love.  .  .  ." 

"He  oughtn't  to  say  it." 

Joel  said  quietly :  "This  is  a  matter  you  do 
not  understand,  Priscilla.  You  would  do  well 
to  keep  silent.  It  is  my  affair." 

A  month  before,  this  would  have  swept  Priss 
into  a  fury  of  anger ;  but  this  night,  though  her 

[132] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

eyes  burned  with  slow  resentment,  she  bit  her 
lips  and  was  still.  A  month  ago,  she  would 
have  forgotten  over  night.  Now  she  would  re- 
member. .  .  . 

Mark  got  up,  laughed.  "He's  bad  company, 
Priss,"  he  told  her.  "Come  on  deck  with  me." 

She  rose,  readily  enough;  and  they  went  out 
through  the  main  cabin,  and  up  the  companion- 
way.  Joel  watched  them  go.  They  left  open 
the  door  into  the  cabin,  and  he  heard  Varde  and 
Finch,  at  the  table  there,  talking  in  husky  whis- 
pers. ...  It  was  so,  he  knew,  over  the  whole 
ship.  Everywhere,  the  men  were  whispering. 
.  .  .  There  hung  over  the  Nathan  Ross  a  cloud 
as  definite  as  a  man's  hand;  and  every  man 
scowled — save  Mark  Shore.  Mark  smiled 
with  malicious  delight  at  the  gathering  storm  he 
had  provoked.  .  .  . 

Joel,  left  in  the  after  cabin,  felt  terribly 
lonely.  He  wanted  Priss  with  him,  laughing, 

[133] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

at  his  side.  His  longing  for  her  was  like  a  hot 
coal  in  his  throat,  burning  there.  And  she  had 
taken  sides  with  Mark,  against  him.  .  .  .  His 
shoulders  shook  with  the  sudden  surge  of  his 
desire  to  grip  Mark's  lean  throat.  .  .  .  Ashore, 
he  would  have  done  so.  But  as  things  were, 
the  ship  was  his  first  charge;  and  a  break  with 
Mark  would  precipitate  the  thing  that  menaced 
the  ship.  .  .  .  He  could  not  fight  Mark  with- 
out risking  the  Nathan  Ross;  and  he  could  not 
risk  the  Nathan  Ross.  Not  even.  .  .  .  His 
head  dropped  for  an  instant  in  his  arms,  and 
then  he  got  up  quickly,  and  shook  himself,  and 
set  his  lips.  .  .  .  No  man  aboard  must  see  the 
trouble  in  his  heart.  .  .  . 

He  went  through  the  main  cabin,  and 
climbed  to  the  deck.  There  was  some  sea  run- 
ning, and  a  wind  that  brushed  aside  all  smaller 
sounds,  so  that  he  made  little  noise.  Thus, 
when  he  reached  the  top  of  the  companion,  he 

[134] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

saw  two  dark  figures  in  the  shadows  of  the  boat 
house,  closely  clasped.  .  .  . 

He  stood  for  an  instant,  white  hot.  .  .  .  His 
wife,  and  Mark.  .  .  .  His  little  Priss,  and  his 
brother.  .  .  . 

Then  he  went  quietly  below,  and  glanced 
at  the  chart,  and  chose  a  course  upon  it. 
The  nearest  land;  he  and  Mark  ashore  to- 
gether. .  .  .  His  blood  ran  hungrily  at  the 
thought.  .  .  . 


[  135 


XI 

PRISCILLA  went  on  deck  that  night  so 
angry  with  Joel  that  she  could  have 
killed  him;  and  Mark  played  upon  her  as  a 
skilled  hand  plays  upon  the  harp.  It  was  such 
a  night  as  the  South  Seas  know,  warm  and  lan- 
guorous, the  wind  caressing,  and  the  salt  spray 
stinging  gently  on  the  cheek.  The  moon  was 
near  the  full,  and  it  laid  a  path  of  silver  on  the 
water.  This  path  was  like  the  road  to  fairy- 
land; and  Mark  told  Priscilla  so.  He  dropped 
into  a  gay  little  phantasy  that  he  conceived  on 
the  moment,  a  story  of  fairies,  and  of  dancing 
in  the  moonlight,  and  of  a  man  and  a  woman, 
hand  in  hand.  .  .  . 

She  felt  the  spell  he  laid  upon  her,  and  strug- 

[136] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

gled  against  it.  "Tell  me  about  the  last  fight, 
when  the  little  brown  girl  was  killed/'  she 
begged. 

He  had  told  her  snatches  of  his  story  here 
and  there ;  but  he  had  not,  till  that  night,  spoken 
of  the  pearls.  When  Priss  heard  of  them,  she 
swung  about  and  lifted  up  her  face  to  his,  listen- 
ing like  a  child.  And  Mark  told  the  story  with 
a  tongue  of  gold,  so  that  she  saw  it  all ;  the  la- 
goon, blue  in  the  sun ;  and  the  schooner  creeping 
in  from  the  sea ;  and  the  hours  of  flight  through 
the  semi-jungle  of  the  island,  with  the  blacks  in 
such  hot  pursuit.  He  told  her  of  the  times 
when  they  surrounded  him,  when  he  fought 
himself  free.  .  .  .  How  he  got  a  great  stone 
and  gripped  it  in  his  hand,  and  how  with  this 
stone  he  crushed  the  skull  of  a  young  black  with 
but  one  eye.  Priss  shuddered  with  delicious 
horror  at  the  tale.  .  .  . 

She  loved  best  to  hear  of  the  little  brown  girl 

[137] 


All  the  "Brothers  Were  Valiant 

whom  Mark  had  loved;  and  that  would  have 
told  either  of  them,  if  they  had  stopped  to  con- 
sider, that  she  did  not  love  Mark.  Else  she 
would  have  hated  the  other,  brown  or  white. 
.  .  .  And  he  told  how  the  brown  girl  saved 
him,  and  gave  her  life  in  the  saving,  and  how 
he  had  stopped  at  a  little  atoll  on  his  homeward 
way  and  buried  her.  .  .  .  She  had  died  in  his 
arms,  smiling  because  she  lay  there.  .  .  . 

"And  the  pearls?"  Priss  asked,  when  she  had 
heard  the  story  through.  "You  left  them 
there?' 

"There  they  are  still,"  he  told  her.  "Safely 
hid  away." 

"How  many?"  she  asked.  "Are  they 
lovely?" 

"Three  big  ones,  and  thirty- two  of  a  fair 
size,  and  enough  little  ones  and  seeds  to  make  a 
double  handful." 

"But  why  did  you  leave  them  there?" 

[138] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

"The  black  men  were  on  the  island.  They 
were  there,  and  watchful,  and  very  angry." 

"Couldn't  you  have  kept  them  in  your 
pocket?" 

He  laughed.  "That  other  schooner  made  me 
cautious.  Man's  life  is  cheap,  in  such  matters. 
And  if  they  guessed  I  had  such  things  upon  me. 
...  If  I  slept  too  soundly,  or  the  like.  .  .  . 
D'ye  see?" 

She  nodded  her  dark  head.  "I  see.  But 
you'll  go  back.  .  .  ." 

He  chuckled  at  that,  and  tapped  on  the  rail 
with  one  knuckle,  in  a  thoughtful  way.  "I  had 
thought  that  Joel  and  I  would  go,  in  the 
Nathan  Ross,  and  fetch  the  things  away,"  he 
said. 

"Of  course,"  she  exclaimed.  "That  would 
be  so  easy.  ...  I'd  love  to  see  the — 
pearls.  .  .  ." 

"Easy?     That  was  my  own  thought,"  he 

[139] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

agreed.  Something  in  his  tone  prompted  her 
question. 

"Why— isn't  it?" 

"Joel  objects,"  he  said  drily. 

"He — won't.  But  why?  I  don't  under- 
stand. Why?" 

Mark  laughed.  "He  speaks  of  a  matter  of 
duty,  not  to  risk  the  ship." 

"Is  there  a  risk?" 

"No."  He  chuckled  maliciously.  "As  a 
matter  of  cold  fact,  Priss,  I'm  fearful  that  Joel 
is  a  bit — timid  in  such  affairs." 

She  flamed  at  him :     "Afraid?" 

He  nodded. 

"I  don't  believe  it." 

His  eyes  shone.  "What  a  loyal  little  bride? 
But — I  taxed  him  with  it.  And — that  was  the 
word  he  used.  .  .  ." 

She  was  so  angry  that  she  beat  upon  Mark's 
great  breast  with  her  tiny  fists.  "It's  not  true ! 

[  HO] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

It's  not  true!"  she  cried.     "You  know.  .  .  ." 

Abruptly,  Mark  took  fire.  She  was  swept  in 
his  arms,  clipped  there,  half-lifted  from  the 
deck  to  meet  his  lips  that  dipped  to  hers.  She 
was  like  nothing  in  his  grasp;  she  could  not 
stir.  .  .  .  And  from  his  lips,  and  circling  arms, 
and  great  body  the  hot  fire  of  the  man  flung 
through  her.  .  .  .  She  fought  him.  ...  But 
even  in  that  terrific  moment  she  knew  that  Joel 
had  never  swept  or  whelmed  her  so.  ... 

She  twisted  her  face  away.  .  .  .  And  thus, 
from  the  shadow  where  they  stood,  she  saw  Joel. 
He  was  at  the  top  of  the  cabin  companion,  look- 
ing toward  them,  his  face  illumined  by  the  light 
from  below.  And  she  watched  for  an  instant, 
frozen  with  terror,  expecting  him  to  leap  toward 
them  and  plunge  at  Mark  and  buffet  him.  .  .  . 
Joel  stood  for  an  instant,  unstirring.  Then 
he  turned,  very  quietly,  and  went  down  stairs 
again  into  the  cabin.  .  .  . 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

She  thought,  sickly,  that  he  had  shirked;  he 
had  seen,  and  held  his  hand.  .  .  . 

What  was  it  Mark  had  said?     Afraid.  .  .  . 

Mark  had  not  seen  Joel.  He  kissed  her 
again.  Then  she  twisted  away  from  him,  and 
fled  below. 

Joel  was  at  his  desk.  He  did  not  look  up  at 
her  coming;  and  she  stood  for  an  instant,  behind 
him,  watching  his  bent  head.  .  .  . 

Then  she  slipped  into  her  own  cabin,  and 
snapped  the  latch,  and  plunged  her  face  in  her 
pillow  to  stifle  bursting  sobs. 


[142] 


XII 

THE  Nathan  Ross  changed  course  that 
day;  and  the  word  went  around  the  ship. 
It  passed  from  man  to  man.  There  was  whis- 
pering; and  there  were  dark  looks,  flung  toward 
Joel. 

Joel  kept  the  deck  all  day,  silent,  and  watch- 
ful, and  waiting.  Mark  spoke  to  him  once  or 
twice,  asking  what  he  meant  to  do.  Joel  told 
him  nothing.  He  had  fought  out  his  fight  the 
night  before;  he  knew  himself.  .  .  . 

Mark  and  Finch  talked  together,  during  the 
morning.  Joel  watched  them  without  com- 
ment. Later  he  saw  Mark  speak  to  the  other 
mates,  one  by  one.  At  dinner  in  the  cabin,  the 
mates  were  silent.  Their  eyes  had  something 

CHS] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

of  shame  in  them,  and  something  of  venomous 
hate.  .  .  .  They  already  hated  Joel,  whom 
they  planned  to  wrong.  .  .  . 

The  day  was  fair,  and  the  wind  drove  them 
smoothly.  There  was  no  work  to  be  done, 
never  a  spout  on  the  sea.  Joel,  watching  once 
or  twice  the  whispering  groups  of  idle  men, 
wished  a  whale  might  be  sighted;  and  once  he 
sent  Morrell  and  Varde  to  find  tasks  for  the 
men  to  do,  and  kept  them  at  it  through  the  long 
afternoon,  scraping,  scrubbing,  painting.  .  .  . 

Priss  kept  to  her  cabin.  When  she  did  not 
appear  at  breakfast,  Joel  went  to  her  door  and 
knocked.  She  called  to  him:  "I've  a  head- 
ache. I'm  going  to  rest."  He  ordered  that 
food  be  sent  to  her.  .  .  . 

He  stayed  on  deck  till  late,  that  night;  but 
with  the  coming  of  night  the  ship  had  grown 
quiet,  and  most  of  the  men  were  below  in  the 
fo'c's'le.  So  at  last  Joel  left  the  deck  to  Varde, 

[144] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

and  went  below.  He  sat  down  at  his  desk  and 
wrote  up  the  day's  log.  .  .  . 

Priss  came  to  him  there.  She  had  been  in 
bed;  and  she  wore  a  heavy  dressing  gown  over 
her  night  garments.  Her  hair  was  braided, 
hanging  across  her  shoulders.  She  sat  down 
beside  the  desk,  and  when  Joel  could  fight  back 
the  misery  in  his  eyes,  he  looked  toward  her 
and  asked: 

"Is  your  head — better?' 

She  said  very  quietly:  "Joel,  I  want  to 
ask  you  something." 

He  wanted  her  sympathy  so  terribly,  and  her 
tone  was  so  cool  and  so  aloof  that  he  winced; 
but  he  said:  "Very  well?' 

"Mark  says  he  asked  you  to  take  the  Nathan 
Ross  to  get — the  pearls  he  left  on  that  island. 
Is  that  true?" 

"Yes,"  said  Joel. 

"He  says  you  would  not  do  it." 

[145] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

"I  will  not  do  it,"  Joel  told  her. 

"He  says,"  said  Priss  quietly,  "that  you  are 
afraid.  He  says  that  was  your  own  word  .  .  . 
when  he  accused  you.  Is  that  true*?" 

If  there  had  been  any  sympathy  or  under- 
standing in  her  voice  or  in  her  eyes,  he  would 
have  told  her  .  .  .  told  her  that  it  was  for  his 
ship  and  not  for  himself  that  he  was  afraid. 
But  there  was  not.  She  was  so  cold  and  hard. 
...  He  would  not  seek  to  justify  himself  to 
her.  .  .  . 

"Yes,"  he  said  quietly.     "I  used  that  word." 

She  turned  her  eyes  quickly  away  from  his, 
that  he  might  not  see  the  pain  in  hers.  .  .  .  She 
rose  to  go  back  to  her  cabin.  .  .  . 

As  she  reached  the  door,  some  one  knocked  on 
the  door  that  led  to  the  main  cabin;  and  with- 
out waiting  for  word  from  Joel,  that  door 
opened.  Mark  stood  there.  He  came  in,  with 
Finch,  and  Varde,  and  old  Hooper  and  young 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Morrell  on  his  heels.  .  .  .  Priss  shrank  back 
into  her  cabin,  closed  the  door  to  a  crack,  lis- 
tened. .  .  . 

Joel  got  to  his  feet.  "What  is  it4?"  he 
asked. 

Mark  bowed  low,  faced  his  brother  with  a 
cold  and  triumphant  smile.  "These  gentlemen 
have  asked  me,"  he  explained,  "to  tell  you  that 
we  have  decided  to  go  fetch  the  pearls." 


[147] 


XIII 

WHEN  Priss,  through  the  crack  in  the 
door,  heard  what  Mark  had  said,  she 
shut  the  door  of  her  cabin  soundlessly,  and 
crouched  against  it,  listening.  She  was  trem- 
bling. .  .  . 

There  was  a  long  moment  when  no  one  of  the 
men  in  the  after  cabin  spoke.  Then  big  Jim 
Finch  said  suavely:  "That  is  to  say,  if  Cap- 
tain Shore  does  not  object." 

Joel  asked  then :     "What  if  I  do  object?" 

Mark  laughed.  "If  you  do  object,  why — 
we'll  just  go  anyway.  But  you'll  have  no 
share." 

And  surly  Varde  added :  "We'd  as  soon  you 
did  object." 

Mark  bade  him  be  quiet.  "That's  not  true, 
[148] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Joel,"  he  said.  "You  know,  I  wanted  you  in 
this,  from  the  first.  Your  coming  in  will — pre- 
vent complications.  With  you  in,  the  whole 
matter  is  very  simple,  and  safe.  .  .  .  But  with- 
out you,  we  will  be  forced  to  take  measures  that 
may  be — reprehensible." 

Joel  did  not  speak;  and  Priss,  trembling 
against  the  door,  thought  bitterly:  "He's 
afraid.  .  .  .  He  said,  himself,  that  he  is 
afraid.  .  .  ." 

Dick  Morrell  begged  eagerly:  "Please,  Cap- 
tain Shore.  There's  a  fortune  for  all  of  us. 
Mr.  Worthen  would  tell  you  to  do  it.  .  .  ." 

Joel  said  then:  "I  told  Mark  Shore  in  the 
beginning  that  I  would  not  risk  my  ship.  The 
enterprise  is  not  lawful.  The  pearls  were 
stolen  in  the  beginning;  murder  hung  around 
them.  Bad  luck  would  follow  them — and 
there  are  blacks  on  the  island  to  prevent  our 
finding  them,  in  any  case." 

[H9] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

"There's  no  harm  in  going  to  see,"  Morrell 
urged. 

"  'Tis  far  out  of  our  proper  way.  Wasted 
time.  And — the  men  should  be  thinking  of  oil, 
not  of  pearls." 

Mark  laughed.  "That  may  be,"  he  agreed. 
"But  the  men's  thoughts  are  already  on  the 
pearls.  They've  no  mind  for  whaling,  Joel. 
They've  no  mind  for  it." 

"I'm  doubtful  that  what  you  say  is  true." 

His  brother  snapped  angrily:  "Do  you  call 
me  liar?" 

"No,"  said  Joel  gently.  "You  were  never 
one  to  lie,  Mark."  And  Priss,  listening, 
winced  at  the  thing  that  was  like  apology  in  his 
tone.  She  heard  Mark  laugh  again,  aloud;  and 
she  heard  the  fat  chuckle  of  Jim  Finch.  Then 
Mark  said : 

"It's    well   you    remember   that.     So.  .  .  . 

[150] 


ir 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Will  you  go  with  us;  or  do  we  go  without 
you?' 

There  was  a  long  moment  of  silence  before 
Joel  answered.  At  last  he  said:  "You're 
making  to  spill  blood  on  the  Nathan  Ross, 
Mark.  I've  no  mind  for  that.  I'll  not  have  it 
— if  I  can  stop  it.  So  .  .  .  I'll  consider  this 
matter,  to-night,  and  give  you  your  answer  in 
the  morning." 

"You'll  answer  now,"  Varde  said  sullenly. 
"There's  too  much  words  and  words.  .  .  . 
You'll  answer  now." 

"I'll  answer  in  the  morning,"  Joel  repeated, 
as  though  he  had  not  heard  Varde.  "In  the 
morning.  And — for  now — I'll  bid  you  good 
night,  gentlemen." 

Mark  chuckled.  "There's  one  matter,  Joel. 
You've  two  rifles  and  a  pair  of  revolvers  in 
the  lockfast  by  your  cabin  there.  I'll  take 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 
them — to  avoid  that  blood-spilling  you  men- 


tion." 


Priss  held  her  breath,  listening.  .  .  .  But 
Joel  said  readily:  "Yes.  Here  is  the  key, 
Mark.  And — I  hold  you  responsible  for  the 
weapons." 

Her  anger  at  Joel  for  his  submission  beat  in 
her  ears;  and  she  heard  the  jingle  of  the  keys, 
and  the  scrape  and  ring  of  the  weapons  as  Mark 
took  them.  He  called  to  Joel  as  he  did  so: 
"They'll  not  leave  my  hands.  Till  the  morn- 
ing, Joel,  my  boy.  .  .  ." 

The  keys  jingled  again.  Mark  said: 
"We'll  ask  you  to  stay  in  the  after  cabin  here 
till  morning.  And — Varde  will  be  in  the  main 
cabin  to  see  that  you  do  it." 

"I'll  stay  here,"  Joel  promised. 

"Then — we'll  bid  you  good  night !" 

Priss  heard  Joel  echo  the  words,  in  even 
tones.  Then  the  door  closed  behind  the  men. 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

.  .  .  There  was  no  further  sound  in  the  after 
cabin. 

She  opened  her  door.  Joel  stood  by  his  desk, 
head  drooping,  one  hand  resting  on  the  open 
log  before  him.  She  went  toward  him,  and 
when  he  turned  and  saw  her,  she  stopped,  and 
studied  him,  her  eyes  searching  his.  And  at 
last  she  said,  so  softly  it  was  as  though  she  spoke 
to  herself: 

"  'All  the  brothers  were  valiant,'  Joel.  Are 
you — just  a  coward1?" 

He  would  not  justify  himself  to  her;  he  could 
only  remember  the  shadowed  deck  beneath  the 
boat  house — Priscilla  in  his  brother's  arms. 
.  .  .  He  lifted  his  right  hand  a  little,  said 
sternly : 

"Go  back  to  your  place." 

She  flung  her  eyes  away  from  him,  stood  for 
an  instant,  then  went  to  her  cabin  with  feet  that 
lagged  and  stumbled. 

[153] 


XIV 

JOEL  lay  for  an  hour,  planning  what  he 
should  do.  He  could  not  yield.  .  .  .  He 
could  not  yield,  even  though  he  might  wish  to 
do  so;  for  the  yielding  would  forfeit  forever 
all  control  over  these  men,  or  any  others.  He 
could  not  yield.  .  .  . 

Yet  he  did  not  wish  to  fight;  for  the  battle 
would  be  hopeless,  with  only  death  at  the  end 
for  him,  and  it  would  ruin  the  men  and  lose  the 
ship.  .  .  .  Blood  marks  a  ship  with  a  mark  that 
cannot  be  washed  away.  And  Joel  loved  his 
ship;  and  he  loved  his  men  with  something 
of  the  love  of  a  father  for  children.  Chil- 
dren they  were.  He  knew  them.  Simple,  eas- 
ily led,  easily  swept  by  some  adventurous 
vision.  .  .  . 

He  slept,  at  last,  dreamlessly;  and  in  the 

[154] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

morning,  when  they  came  to  him,  he  told  them 
what  he  wished  to  do. 

"Call  the  men  aft,"  he  said.  "I'll  speak  to 
them.  We'll  see  what  their  will  is." 

Mark  mocked  him.  "Ask  the  men,  is  it?" 
he  exclaimed.  "Let  them  vote,  you'll  be  say- 
ing. Are  you  master  of  the  ship,  man;  or  just 
first  selectman,  that  you'd  call  a  town  meeting 
on  the  high  seas?" 

"I'll  talk  with  the  men,"  said  Joel  stub- 
bornly. 

Varde  strode  forward  angrily.  "You'll  talk 
with  us,"  he  said.  "Yes  or  no.  Now.  What 
is  it?" 

They  were  in  the  main  cabin.  Joel  looked 
at  Varde  steadily  for  an  instant;  then  he  said: 
"I'm  going  on  deck.  You'll  come.  .  .  ." 

Priss,  in  the  door  of  the  after  cabin,  a  fright- 
ened and  trembling  little  figure,  called  to  him: 
"Joel.  Joel.  Don't.  .  .  ." 

[155] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

He  said,  without  turning:  "Stay  in  your 
cabin,  Priscilla."  And  then  he  passed  between 
Varde  and  Finch,  at  the  foot  of  the  companion, 
and  turned  his  back  upon  them  and  went  stead- 
ily up  the  steep,  ladder-like  stair.  Varde  made 
a  convulsive  movement  to  seize  his  arm;  but 
Mark  touched  the  man,  held  him  with  his  eyes, 
whispered  something.  .  .  . 

They  had  left  old  Hooper  on  deck.  He  and 
Aaron  Burnham  were  standing  in  the  after 
house  when  Joel  saw  them.  Joel  said  to  the 
third  mate:  "Mr.  Hooper,  tell  the  men  to  lay 
aft." 

Mark  had  come  up  at  Joel's  heels;  and 
Hooper  looked  past  Joel  to  Mark  for  confirma- 
tion. And  Mark  smiled  mirthlessly,  and  ap- 
proved. "Yes,  Mr.  Hooper,  call  the  men,"  he 
said.  "We're  to  hold  a  town  meeting." 

Old  Hooper's  slow  brain  could  not  follow 
such  maneuvering;  nevertheless,  he  bellowed  a 


All  the  brothers  Were  Valiant 

command.  And  the  harpooners  from  the  steer- 
age, and  the  men  from  forecastle  and  fore  deck 
came  stumbling  and  crowding  aft.  The  men 
stopped  amidships ;  and  Joel  went  toward  them 
a  little  ways,  until  he  was  under  the  boat  house. 
The  mates  stood  about  him,  the  harpooners  a 
little  to  one  side;  and  Mark  leaned  on  the  rail 
at  the  other  side  of  the  deck,  watching,  smiling. 
.  .  .  The  revolvers  were  in  his  belt;  the  rifles 
leaned  against  the  after  rail.  He  polished  the 
butt  of  one  of  the  revolvers  while  he  watched 
and  smiled.  .  .  . 

Joel  said,  without  preamble:  "Men,  the 
mates  tell  me  that  you've  heard  of  my  brother's 
pearls." 

The  men  looked  at  one  ar  other,  and  at  the 
mates.  They  were  a  jumbled  lot,  riff-raff  of 
all  the  seas,  Cape  Verders,  Islanders,  a  Cockney 
or  two,  a  Frenchman,  two  or  three  Norsemen, 
and  a  backbone  of  New  England  stock.  They 

[157] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

looked  at  one  another,  and  at  the  mates,  with 
stupid,  questioning  eyes ;  and  one  or  two  of  them 
nodded  in  a  puzzled  way,  and  the  Cape  Verders 
grinned  with  embarrassment.  A  New  Eng- 
lander  drawled: 

"Aye,  sir.     We've  heard  th'  tale." 

Joel  nodded.  "When  my  brother  came 
aboard  at  Tubuai,"  he  said  quietly,  "he  pro- 
posed that  we  go  to  this  island.  ...  I  do  not 
know  its  position — " 

Mark  drawled  from  across  the  deck:  "You 
know  as  much  as  any  man  aboard — myself  ex- 
cepted,  Joel.  It's  my  own  secret,  mind." 

"He  proposed  that  we  go  to  this  island,"  Joel 
pursued,  "and  that  he  and  I  go  ashore  and  get 
the  pearls  and  say  nothing  about  them." 

Varde,  at  Joel's  side,  swung  his  head  and 
looked  bleakly  at  Mark  Shore;  and  one  or  two 
of  the  men  murmured.  Joel  said  quickly: 
"Don't  misunderstand.  I'm  not  blaming  him 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

for  that.  You  must  not.  The  pearls  are  his. 
He  has  a  right  to  them.  .  .  . 

"What  I  want  you  to  know  is  that  I  refused 
to  go  with  him  and  get  them  on  half  shares.  I 
could  have  had  half,  and  refused.  .  .  . 

"Now  he  has  spread  the  story  among  you. 
And  the  mates  say  that  I  must  go  with  you  all, 
and  get  the  things." 

He  stopped,  and  the  eyes  of  the  men  were  on 
him;  and  one  or  two  nodded,  and  a  voice  here 
and  there  exclaimed  in  approval.  Joel  waited 
until  they  were  quiet  again;  then  he  said: 
"These — pearls — have  cost  life.  At  least  five 
men  and  a  woman  died  in  the  getting  of  them. 
If  we  had  them  aboard  here,  more  of  us  would 
die;  for  none  would  be  content  with  his 
share.  .  .  . 

"It's  in  my  mind  that  they'd  bring  blood 
aboard  the  Nathan  Ross.  And  I  have  no  wish 
for  that.  But  first — 

[159] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

"How  many  of  you  are  for  going  after 
them?" 

There  was  a  murmur  of  assent  from  many 
throats;  and  Joel  looked  from  man  to  man. 
"Most  of  you,  at  least,"  he  said.  "Is  there  any 
man  against  going*?'7 

There  may  have  been,  but  no  man  spoke ;  and 
over  Joel's  face  passed  a  weary  little  shadow  of 
pain.  For  a  long  moment  he  stood  in  the  sun, 
studying  them;  and  they  saw  his  lips  were 
white.  Then  he  said  quietly : 

"You  shall  not  go.  The  Nathan  Ross  goes 
on  about  her  proper  matters.  The  pearls  stay 
where  they  are." 

He  shifted  his  weight,  looked  quickly  toward 
his  brother.  .  .  .  He  was  poised  for  battle. 
By  the  very  force  of  his  word,  there  was  a 
chance  he  might  prevail.  He  watched  the  men, 
in  whose  hands  the  answer  lay.  If  he  could 
hold  them.  .  .  . 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

Hands  clamped  his  arms,  and  Mark  smiled 
across  the  deck.  Finch  and  old  Hooper  on  one 
side,  Varde  and  Morrell  on  the  other.  And 
after  the  first  wrench  of  his  surprise,  he  knew  it 
was  hopeless  to  struggle,  and  stood  quietly. 
Mark  strolled  across  the  deck,  smiling  coldly. 

"If  you'll  not  go,  Joel,  you  must  be  taken," 
he  said.  And  to  the  mates :  "Bring  back  his 


arms." 


Joel  felt  the  cord  slipped  through  his  elbows 
and  drawn  tight  and  looped  and  made  secure. 
Old  Aaron  Burnham  pushed  forward  and 
tugged  at  them;  and  Joel  heard  him  say: 
'They'll  hold  him  fast,  Captain  Shore.  Like 
a  trussed  fowl,  sir.  That  he  is.  .  .  ." 

"Captain  Shore?"  That  would  be  Mark, 
come  into  command  of  the  ship  again.  And 
Aaron  added:  "I've  set  the  bolt  on  his  cabin 
door,  sir.  Not  five  minutes  gone." 

Mark     laughed.     "Good     enough,     Aaron. 

[161] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

You  and  Varde  take  him  down.  Varde,  you'll 
stay  in  the  after  cabin.  If  he  tries  to  get  free, 
summon  me.  And — treat  Mrs.  Shore  with  the 
utmost  courtesy." 

Varde  was  at  Joel's  side;  and  Joel  saw  the 
twist  of  his  smile  at  Mark's  last  word.  For  a 
moment,  thought  of  Priss  left  Joel  sick.  He 
thrust  the  thought  aside.  .  .  . 

They  took  him  down  into  the  main  cabin; 
Varde  ahead,  then  Joel,  and  old  Aaron  close  be- 
hind, his  hand  on  Joel's  elbow.  Priss  met  them 
in  the  after  cabin,  crouching  in  a  corner,  white 
and  still,  her  hands  at  her  throat.  Her  eyes 
met  his  for  an  instant,  before  Varde  led  him 
toward  his  own  cabin.  Aaron,  behind,  looked 
toward  Priss ;  and  the  girl  whispered  hoarsely : 

"Is  he— hurt?" 

"He  is  not,"  said  Aaron  grimly.  "We  were 
most  gentle  with  the  man;  and  he  made  no 
struggle  at  all.  .  .  ." 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Varde  thrust  Joel  into  the  little  cabin  where 
his  bunk  was;  and  Joel  heard  the  snick  of  a 
new-set  bolt  on  the  outer  side  of  the  door.  He 
was  alone,  bound  fast.  .  .  . 

Before  he  left  the  deck,  he  had  heard  Mark 
cry  an  order  to  the  man  at  the  wheel.  The  tell- 
tale in  the  after  cabin  ceiling  told  him  the 
Nathan  Ross  had  changed  her  course  again 
.  .  .  for  Mark's  island.  ...  In  the  face  of 
men,  he  had  held  himself  steady  and  calm.  .  .  . 
But  now,  alone  in  his  cabin,  he  strained  at 
his  bonds,  lips  cracking  over  set  teeth.  He 
strained  and  tugged.  .  .  .  Hopeless.  .  .  . 

No !  Not  hopeless !  He  felt  them  yield  a 
little,  a  little  more  .  .  .  Then,  with  a  tiny  snap 
of  sound,  the  coils  were  loose,  and  he  shook  the 
cords  down  over  his  wrists  and  hands.  He 
caught  them  as  they  fell  across  his  fingers,  lest 
the  sound  of  their  fall  might  warn  Varde,  in  the 
cabin  outside  his  door;  and — he  was  still  stupe- 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

fied  by  the  surprise  of  this  deliverance — he 
lifted  the  broken  bonds  and  examined 
them.  .  .  . 

A  single  strand  had  yielded,  loosing  all  the 
rest.  And  where  it  had  broken,  Joel  saw,  it 
had  been  sliced  all  but  through,  with  a  keen 
blade. 

Who*?  His  thoughts  raced  back  over  the 
brief  minutes  of  his  bondage.  Who5? 

No  other  but  Aaron  Burnham  could  have  had 
the  chance  and  the  good  will.  Old  Aaron. 
.  .  .  And  Aaron's  knives  were  always  razor 
sharp.  Drawn  once  across  the  tight-stretched 
cord.  .  .  . 

Aaron  had  freed  him.     Aaron.  .  .  . 

He  remembered  something  else.  Aaron's 
words  to  Mark  on  deck.  "I've  set  the  bolt  on 
his  cabin  door.  .  .  ." 

Aaron  had  set  the  new  bolt  that  was  the  only 
bar  between  him  and  the  after  cabin,  where 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Varde  stood  watch.  Aaron  had  set  the  bolt; 
and  Aaron  had  cut  his  bonds.  Therefore — the 
bolt  must  be  flimsy,  easily  forced  away.  That 
would  be  Aaron's  plan.  A  single  thrust  would 
open  the  way.  .  .  . 

He  turned  toward  the  door ;  then  caught  him- 
self, drew  back,  dropped  on  the  bunk  and  lay 
there,  planning  what  he  must  do. 


[165] 


XV 

F"T"1HE  discovery  of  Aaron's  loyalty  had  been 
JL  immensely  heartening  to  Joel.  If  Aaron 
were  loyal,  there  might  be  others.  .  .  .  Must 
be.  ...  Not  all  men  are  false.  .  .  . 

He  wondered  who  they  would  be;  he  went 
over  the  men,  one  by  one,  from  mate  to  hum- 
blest foremast  hand.  Finch  and  Varde  were 
surely  against  him.  Old  Hooper — he  and 
Aaron  were  cronies,  and  the  other  mates  had 
left  Hooper  somewhat  out  of  their  movements 
thus  far.  Old  Hooper  might  be,  give  him  his 
chance,  on  Joel's  side.  .  .  . 

Old  Hooper,  and  Aaron.  Two.  Dick  Mor- 
rell?  A  boy,  hot  with  the  wonder  and  glamor 
of  Mark's  tale.  Easily  swung  to  either  side. 
Joel  thought  he  would  not  swing  too  desper- 

[166] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

ately  to  the  lawless  side.  But — he  could  not 
be  counted  on.  What  others  were  there5? 

Joel  had  brought  his  own  harpooner  from  the 
Martin  Wilkes.  A  big  Island  black.  A  de- 
cent man.  ...  A  chance.  Besides  him,  there 
were  three  men  who  had  served  Asa  Worthen 
long  among  the  foremast  hands.  Uncertain 
quantities.  Chances  everywhere.  .  .  . 

But — he  must  strike  quickly.  There  was  no 
time  to  sound  them  out.  When  his  dinner  was 
brought  at  noon,  his  broken  bonds  would  be  dis- 
covered. They  would  be  more  careful  there- 
after. Three  hours  lay  before  him.  .  .  . 

He  set  himself  to  listen  with  all  his  ears;  to 
guess  at  what  was  going  on  above  decks,  and  so 
choose  his  moment.  He  must  wait  as  long  as  it 
was  safe  to  wait ;  he  must  wait  till  men's  bloods 
ran  less  hot  after  the  crisis  of  the  morning.  He 
must  wait  till  sober  second  thought  was  upon 
them.  .  .  . 

[167] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

But  there  was  always  the  chance  to  fear  that 
Mark  might  come  down.  He  could  not  wait 
too  long.  .  .  . 

He  could  hear  feet  moving  on  the  deck  above 
his  head.  The  Nathan  Ross  had  run  into 
rougher  weather  with  her  change  of  course; 
the  wind  was  stiffening,  and  now  and  then 
a  whisk  of  spray  came  aboard.  He  heard 
Jim  Finch's  bellowing  commands.  .  .  .  Heard 
Mark's  laughter.  Mark  and  Jim  were  astern, 
fairly  over  his  head. 

There  were  men  in  the  main  cabin.  The 
scrape  of  their  feet,  the  murmur  of  their  voices 
came  to  him.  Dick  Morrell  and  old  Hooper, 
perhaps.  .  .  . 

It  was  through  these  men  that  Joel's  moment 
came.  Finch,  on  deck,  shouted  down  to  them. 
.  .  .  Mark  had  decided  to  shorten  sail,  ease  the 
strain  on  the  old  masts.  Joel  heard  Morrell 
and  Hooper  go  up  to  the  deck.  .  .  . 

[168] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

That  would  mean  most  of  the  men  aloft 
.  .  .  The  decks  would  be  fairly  clear.  His 
chance.  .  .  . 

He  wished  he  could  know  where  Varde  sat; 
but  he  could  not  be  sure  of  that,  and  he  could 
not  wait  to  guess  by  listening.  He  caught  up  a 
blanket  from  his  bunk,  held  it  open  in  his  hands, 
drew  back — and  threw  himself  against  the  cabin 
door. 

It  opened  so  easily  that  he  overbalanced,  all 
but  fell.  The  screws  had  been  set  in  punch 
holes  so  large  that  the  threads  scarce  took  hold 
at  all.  Joel  stumbled  out — saw  Varde  on  the 
cushioned  bench  which  ran  across  the  stern. 
The  mate  was  reading,  a  book  from  Joel's  nar- 
row shelf.  At  sight  of  Joel,  he  was  for  an  in- 
stant paralyzed  with  surprise.  .  .  . 

That  instant  was  long  enough  for  Joel.  He 
swept  the  blanket  down  upon  the  man,  smother- 
ing his  cries  with  fold  on  fold ;  and  he  grappled 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Varde,  and  crushed  him,  and  beat  at  his  head 
with  his  fists  until  the  mate's  spasmodic  strug- 
gles slackened.  Priss  had  heard  the  sounds  of 
combat,  swept  out  of  her  cabin,  bent  above 
them.  He  looked  up  and  saw  her;  and  he  said 
quietly : 

"Get  back  into  your  place." 

She  cried  pitifully:  "I  want  to  help. 
Please.  .  .  ." 

He  shook  his  head.  "This  is  my  task. 
Quick." 

She  fled.  .  .  . 

He  lifted  Varde  and  carried  him  back  to  the 
cabin  where  he  himself  had  been  captive;  and 
there,  with  the  cords  that  had  bound  his  own 
arms,  he  bound  Varde,  wrist  and  ankle ;  and  he 
stripped  away  the  blanket,  and  stuffed  into 
Varde's  mouth  a  heavy,  woolen  sock,  and  tied  it 
there  with  a  handkerchief.  .  .  .  Varde' s  eyes 
[170] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

flickered  open  at  the  last;  and  Joel  said  to  him: 

"I  must  leave  you  here  for  the  present.  You 
will  do  well  to  lie  quietly." 

He  left  the  man  lying  on  the  floor,  and  went 
out  into  the  after  cabin  and  salvaged  the  bolt 
and  screws  that  had  been  sent  flying  by  his 
thrust.  He  put  the  bolt  back  in  place^,  pushed 
the  screws  into  the  holes,  bolted  the  door.  .  .  . 
No  trace  remained  of  his  escape.  .  .  . 

Priss  stood  in  her  own  door.  Without  look- 
ing at  her,  he  opened  the  door  into  the  main 
cabin.  That  apartment  was  empty,  as  he  had 
expected.  The  companion  stair  led  to  the 
deck.  .  .  . 

But  he  could  not  go  up  that  way.  Mark 
and  Jim  Finch  were  within  reach  of  the  top  of 
the  stair;  he  would  be  at  a  disadvantage,  coming 
up  to  them  from  below.  He  must  reach  the 
deck  before  they  saw  him. 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

He  crossed  the  cabin  to  a  lockfast,  and 
opened  it,  and  took  out  the  two  pairs  of  heavy 
ship's  irons  that  lay  there.  Spring  handcuffs 
that  locked  without  a  key.  .  .  .  He  put  one 
pair  in  each  pocket  of  his  coat. 

There  was  a  seldom  used  door  that  opened 
from  the  main  cabin  into  a  passage  which  led  in 
turn  to  the  steerage  where  the  harpooners  slept. 
Joel  stepped  to  this  door,  slipped  the  bolt,  en- 
tered the  passage,  and  closed  the  door  behind 
him. 

It  was  black  dark,  where  he  stood.  The  pas- 
sage was  unlighted;  and  the  swinging  lamp  in 
the  steerage  did  not  send  its  rays  this  far.  The 
Nathan  Ross  was  heeling  and  bucking  heavily 
in  the  cross  seas,  and  Joel  chose  his  footing  care- 
fully, and  moved  forward  along  the  passage,  his 
hands  braced  against  the  wall  on  either  side. 
The  way  was  short,  scarce  half  a  dozen  feet; 
but  he  was  long  in  covering  the  distance,  and  he 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

paused  frequently  to  listen.  He  had  no  wish 
to  encounter  the  harpooners  in  their  narrow 
quarters.  .  .  . 

He  heard,  at  last,  the  muffled  sound  of  a 
snore ;  and  so  covered  the  last  inches  of  his  way 
more  quickly.  When  he  was  able  to  look  into 
the  place,  he  saw  that  two  of  the  men  were  in 
their  bunks,  apparently  asleep.  The  black 
whom  he  had  brought  from  the  Nathan  Ross 
was  not  there.  Joel  was  glad  to  think  he  was 
on  deck;  glad  to  hope  for  the  chance  of  his 
help.  .  .  . 

With  steps  so  slow  he  seemed  like  a  shadow 
in  the  semi-darkness,  he  crossed  to  the  foot  of 
the  ladder  that  led  to  the  deck.  The  men  in 
their  bunks  still  slept.  He  began  to  climb. 
.  .  .  The  ship  was  rolling  heavily,  so  that  he 
was  forced  to  grip  the  ladder  tightly.  .  .  .  One 
of  the  sleepers  stirred,  and  Joel  froze  where  he 
stood,  and  watched,  and  waited  for  endless 

[173] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

seconds  till  the  man  became  quiet  once  more. 

He  climbed  till  his  head  was  on  a  level  with 
the  deck  still  hidden  by  the  sides  of  the  scuttle 
at  the  top  of  the  ladder.  And  there  he  poised 
himself;  for  the  last  steps  to  the  deck  must  be 
made  in  a  single  rush,  so  quickly  that  interfer- 
ence would  be  impossible  .  .  . 

He  made  them;  one  .  .  .  three  .  .  .  He 
stood  upon  the  deck,  looked  aft.  .  .  . 

Mark  and  Jim  Finch  stood  there,  not  ten  feet 
away  from  him.  Finch's  back  was  turned,  but 
Mark  saw  Joel  instantly;  and  Joel,  watching, 
saw  Mark's  mouth  widen  in  a  broad  and  mis- 
chievously delighted  smile. 


XVI 

AT  the  moment  when  Joel  reached  the 
deck,  the  other  men  aboard  the  Nathan 
Ross  were  widely  scattered. 

Varde,  the  second  mate,  he  had  left  tied  and 
helpless  in  the  cabin.  Two  of  the  four  har- 
pooners  were  below  in  their  bunks,  asleep.  The 
greater  part  of  one  watch  was  likewise  below, 
in  the  fo'c's'le;  and  the  rest  of  the  crew,  under 
Dick  Morrell's  eye,  were  shortening  sail.  In 
the  after  part  of  the  ship  there  were  only  Mark 
Shore,  Finch,  a  foremast  hand  at  the  wheel,  old 
Aaron  Burnham,  and  the  cook.  Of  these, 
Mark,  Jim,  and  the  man  at  the  wheel  were  in 
sight  when  Joel  appeared;  and  only  Mark  had 
seen  him. 

Joel  saw  his  brother  smile,  and  stood  for  an 
instant,  poised  to  meet  an  attack.  None  came. 

[175] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

He  swept  his  eyes  forward  and  saw  that  he  need 
fear  no  immediate  interference  from  that  direc- 
tion; and  so  he  went  quietly  toward  the  men 
astern.  The  broad  back  of  Jim  Finch  was 
within  six  feet  of  him.  .  .  . 

What  moved  Mark  Shore  in  that  moment,  it 
is  hard  to  say.  It  may  have  been  the  reckless 
spirit  of  the  man,  willing  to  wait  and  watch  and 
see  what  Joel  would  do;  or  it  may  have  been  the 
distaste  he  must  have  felt  for  Jim  Finch's  slav- 
ish adulation;  or  it  may  have  been  an  unad- 
mitted admiration  for  Joel's  courage  .  .  . 

At  any  rate,  while  Joel  advanced,  Mark  stood 
still  and  smiled ;  and  he  gave  Finch  no  warning, 
so  that  when  Joel  touched  the  mate's  elbow, 
Finch  whirled  with  a  startled  gasp  of  surprise 
and  consternation,  and  in  his  first  panic,  tried  to 
back  away.  Still  Mark  made  no  move.  The 
man  at  the  wheel  uttered  one  exclamation, 
looked  quickly  at  Mark  for  commands,  and  took 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

his  cue  from  his  leader.  Finch  was  left  alone 
and  unsupported  to  face  Joel. 

Joel  did  not  pursue  the  retreating  mate.  He 
stepped  to  the  rail,  where  the  whaleboats  hung, 
and  called  to  Finch  quietly: 

"Mr.  Finch,  step  here." 

Finch  had  retreated  until  his  shoulders  were 
braced  against  the  wall  of  the  after  house.  He 
leaned  there,  hands  outspread  against  the  wall 
behind  him,  staring  at  Joel  with  goggling  eyes. 
And  Joel  said  again : 

"Come  here,  Mr.  Finch." 

Joel's  composure,  and  the  determination  and 
the  confidence  in  his  tone,  frightened  Finch. 
He  clamored  suddenly :  "How  did  he  get  here, 
Captain  Shore?  Jump  him.  Tie  him  up — 
you — Aaron  .  .  ." 

He  appealed  to  the  man  at  the  wheel,  and  to 
old  Aaron,  who  had  appeared  in  the  doorway  of 
the  tiny  compartment  where  his  tools  were 

[177] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

stored.  Neither  stirred.  Mark  Shore,  chuck- 
ling, stared  at  Finch  and  at  Joel;  and  Finch 
cried : 

"Captain  Shore.  Come  on.  Let's  get 
him  .  .  ." 

Joel  said  for  the  third  time:  "Come  here, 
Finch." 

Finch  held  out  a  hand  to  Mark,  appealingly. 
Mark  shook  his  head.  "This  is  your  affair, 
Finch,"  he  said.  "Go  get  him,  yourself.  He's 
waiting  for  you.  And — you're  twice  his  size." 

Give  Finch  his  due.  With  even  moral  sup- 
port behind  him,  he  would  have  overwhelmed 
Joel  in  a  single  rush.  Without  that  support, 
he  would  still  have  faced  any  reasonable  attack. 
But  there  was  something  baffling  about  Joel's 
movements,  his  tones,  the  manner  of  his  com- 
mand, that  stupefied  Finch.  He  felt  that  he 
was  groping  in  the  dark.  The  mutiny  must 
have  collapsed  ...  It  may  have  been  only 

[178] 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

a  snare  to  trap  him.  .  .  .  He  was  alone — 
against  Joel,  and  with  none  to  support  him  .  .  . 

Finch's  courage  was  not  of  the  solitary  kind. 
He  took  one  slow  step  toward  Joel,  and  in  that 
single  step  was  surrender. 

Joel  stood  still,  but  his  eyes  held  the  big 
man's;  and  he  said  curtly:  "Quickly,  Finch." 

Finch  took  another  lagging  step,  an- 
other. .  .  . 

Joel  dropped  his  hand  in  his  coat  pocket  and 
drew  out  a  pair  of  irons.  He  tossed  them  to- 
ward Finch;  and  the  mate  shrank,  and  the 
irons  struck  him  in  the  body  and  fell  to  the  deck. 
He  stared  down  at  them,  stared  at  Joel. 

Joel  said :  "Pick  them  up.  Snap  one  on  your 
right  wrist.  Then  put  your  arms  around  the 
davit,  there,  and  snap  the  other.  .  .  ." 

Finch  shook  his  head  in  a  bewildered  way,  as 
though  trying  to  understand;  and  abruptly,  a 
surge  of  honest  anger  swept  him,  and  he  stiff- 

[179] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

ened,  and  wheeled  to  rush  at  Joel.  But  Joel 
made  no  move  either  to  retreat  or  to  meet  the 
attack;  and  Finch,  like  a  huge  and  baffled  bear, 
slumped  again,  and  slowly  stooped,  and  gath- 
ered up  the  handcuffs.  .  .  . 

With  them  in  his  hands,  he  looked  again  at 
Joel;  and  for  a  long  moment  their  eyes  battled. 
Then  Joel  stepped  forward,  touched  Finch 
lightly  on  the  arm,  and  guided  him  toward  the 
rail.  Finch  was  absolutely  unresisting.  The 
sap  had  gone  out  of  him  .  .  . 

Joel  drew  the  man's  arms  around  the  davit, 
and  snapped  the  irons  upon  his  wrist.  Finch 
was  fast  there,  out  of  whatever  action  there  was 
to  come.  And  Joel's  lips  tightened  with  re- 
lief. He  stepped  back  .  .  . 

He  saw,  then,  that  some  of  the  crew  had 
heard,  and  three  or  four  of  them  were  gather- 
ing amidships,  near  the  try  works.  The  two 
harpooners  were  there;  and  one  of  them  was 


All  the  Brothers   Were  Valiant 

that  black  whom  Joel  had  brought  from  the 
Martin  Wilkes,  and  in  whom  he  placed  some 
faith.  He  eyed  these  men  for  a  moment,  won- 
dering whether  they  were  nerved  to  strike  .  .  . 

But  they  did  not  stir,  they  did  not  move  to- 
ward him;  and  he  guessed  they  were  as  stupe- 
fied as  Finch  by  what  had  happened.  So  long 
as  the  men  aft  allowed  him  to  go  free,  they 
would  not  interfere.  They  did  not  under- 
stand; and  without  understanding,  they  were 
helpless. 

He  turned  his  back  on  them,  and  looked  to- 
ward Mark. 

Mark  Shore  had  watched  Joel's  encounter 
with  Finch  in  frank  enjoyment.  Such  inci- 
dents pleased  him;  they  appealed  to  his  love 
for  the  bold  and  daring  facts  of  life  .  .  .  He 
had  smiled. 

But  now  Joel  saw  that  he  had  stepped  back  a 
little,  perhaps  by  accident.  He  was  behind  the 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

man  at  the  wheel,  behind  the  spot  where  Aaron 
Burnham  stood.  He  was  standing  almost 
against  the  after  rail,  in  the  narrow  corridor 
that  runs  fore  and  aft  through  the  after 
house  .  .  . 

The  pistols  were  in  his  belt,  and  the  two 
rifles  leaned  on  fche  rail  at  his  side.  Mark  him- 
self was  standing  at  ease,  his  arms  relaxed,  his 
hands  resting  lightly  on  his  hips  and  his  feet 
apart.  He  swayed  to  the  movement  of  the 
ship,  balancing  with  the  unconscious  ease  of 
long  custom. 

Joel  went  toward  him,  not  slowly,  yet  with- 
out haste.  He  passed  old  Aaron  with  no  word, 
passed  the  wheelman,  and  faced  his  brother. 
They  were  scarce  two  feet  apart  when  he 
stopped;  and  there  were  no  others  near  enough 
to  hear,  above  the  slashing  of  the  seas  and  the 
whistle  of  the  wind,  his  low  words. 

[182] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

He  said:  "Mark,  you've  made  a  mistake.  A 
bad  mistake.  In — starting  this  mutiny." 

Mark  smiled  slowly.  "That's  a  hard  word, 
Joel.  It's  in  my  mind  that  if  this  is  mutiny, 
it's  a  very  peaceful  model." 

"Nevertheless,  it  is  just  that,"  said  Joel. 
"It  is  that,  and  it  is  also  a  mistake.  And — 
you  are  wise  man  enough  to  see  this.  There 
is  still  time  to  remedy  the  thing.  It  can  be  for- 
gotten." 

Mark  chuckled.  "If  that  is  true,  you've  a 
most  convenient  memory,  Joel." 

Joel's  cheeks  flushed  slowly,  and  he  an- 
swered: "I  am  anxious  to  forget — whatever 
shames  the  House  of  Shore." 

Mark  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  aloud. 
"Bless  you,  boy,"  he  exclaimed.  "  'Tis  no 
shame  to  you  to  have  fallen  victim  to  our 
numbers."  But  there  was  a  heat  in  his  tones 

[183] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

that  told  Joel  he  was  shaken.  And  Joel  in- 
sisted steadily : 

"It  was  not  my  own  shame  I  feared." 

"Mine,  then4?"  Mark  challenged. 

"Aye,"  said  Joel.     "Yours." 

Mark  bent  toward  him  with  a  mocking  flare 
of  anger  in  his  eyes;  and  he  said  harshly: 
"You've  spoken  too  much  for  a  small  man.  Be 
silent.  And  go  below." 

Joel  waited  for  an  instant;  then  his  shoul- 
ders stirred  as  though  he  chose  a  hard  course, 
and  he  held  out  his  hand  and  said  quietly :  "Give 
me  the  guns,  Mark." 

Mark  stared  at  him;  and  he  laughed  aloud. 
"You're  immense,  boy,"  he  applauded.  "The 
cool  nerve  of  you  ..."  His  eyes  warmed 
with  frank  admiration.  "Joel,  hark  to  this," 
he  cried,  and  jerked  his  head  toward  the  captive 
Finch.  "You've  ripped  the  innards  out  of  that 

[184] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

mate  of  mine.  I'll  give  you  the  job.  You're 
mate  of  the  Nathan  Ross;  and  I'm  proud  to 
have  you  ..." 

"I  am  captain  of  the  Nathan  Ross,"  said 
Joel.  "And  you  are  my  brother,  and  a — muti- 
neer. Give  me  the  guns.7' 

Mark  threw  up  his  hand  angrily.  "You'll 
not  hear  reason.  Then — go  below,  and  stay 
there.  You  .  .  ." 

There  are  few  men  who  can  stand  flat-footed 
and  still  hit  a  crushing  blow;  but  Joel  did  just 
this.  When  Mark  began  to  speak,  Joel's  hands 
had  been  hanging  limply  at  his  sides.  On 
Mark's  last  word,  Joel's  right  hand  whipped  up 
as  smoothly  as  a  whip  snaps ;  and  it  smacked  on 
Mark's  lean  jaw  with  much  the  sound  a  whip 
makes.  It  struck  just  behind  the  point  of  the 
jaw,  on  the  left  hand  side;  and  Mark's  head 
jerked  back,  and  his  knees  sagged,  and  he  tot- 

[185] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

tered  weakly  forward  into  Joel's  very  arms. 

Joel's  hands  were  at  the  other's  belt,  even  as 
Mark  fell.  He  brought  out  the  revolvers,  then 
let  Mark  slip  down  to  the  deck;  and  he  stepped 
over  the  twitching  body  of  his  brother,  and 
caught  up  the  two  rifles,  and  dropped  them, 
with  the  revolvers,  over  the  after  rail. 

Mark's  splendid  body  had  already  begun  to 
recover  from  the  blow;  he  was  struggling  to  sit 
up,  and  he  saw  what  Joel  did,  and  cried  aloud : 
"Don't  be  a  fool,  boy.  Keep  them  .  .  . 
Hell!"  For  the  weapons  were  gone.  Joel 
turned,  and  looked  down  at  him;  and  he  said 
quietly : 

"While  I  can  help  it,  there'll  be  no  blood  shed 
on  my  ship." 

Mark  swept  an  arm  toward  the  waist  of  the 
ship,  and  Joel  looked  and  saw  a  growing  knot 
of  angry  men  there.  "See  them,  do  you4?" 
Mark  demanded.  "They're  drunk  for  blood. 

[186] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

It's  out  of  your  hands,  Joel.  You've  thrown 
your  ace  away.  Now,  boy — what  will  you 
do?" 

The  men  began  to  surge  aft,  along  the  deck. 


[187] 


XVII 

THE  story  of  that  battle  upon  the  tum- 
bling decks  of  the  Nathan  Ross  was  to 
be  told  and  re- told  at  many  a  gam  upon  the 
whaling  grounds.  It  was  such  a  story  as  strong 
men  love;  a  story  of  overwhelming  odds,  of 
epic  combat,  of  splendid  death  where  blood  ran 
hot  and  strong  .  .  . 

There  were  a  full  score  of  men  in  the  group 
that  came  aft  toward  Joel.  And  as  they  came, 
others,  running  from  the  fo'c'sle  and  dropping 
from  the  rigging,  joined  them.  Every  man 
was  drunk  with  the  vision  of  wealth  that  he  had 
built  upon  Mark  Shore's  story.  The  thing  had 
grown  and  grown  in  the  telling;  it  had  fattened 
on  the  greed  native  in  the  men;  and  it  was  a 
monstrous  thing  now,  and  one  that  would  not  be 
denied.  .  .  .  The  men,  as  they  moved  aft, 

[188] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

made  grumbling  sounds  with  their  half-caught 
breath ;  and  these  sounds  blended  into  a  roaring 
growl  like  the  growl  of  a  beast. 

To  face  these  men  stood  Joel.  For  an  in- 
stant, he  was  alone.  Then,  without  word,  old 
Aaron  took  his  stand  beside  -his  captain.  Aaron 
held  gripped  in  both  hands  an  adze.  Its  edge 
was  sharp  enough  to  slice  hard  wood  like 
cheese.  .  .  .  And  at  Joel's  other  side,  the  cook. 
A  round  man,  with  greasy  traces  of  his  craft 
upon  his  countenance.  He  carried  a  heavy 
cleaver.  There  is  an  ancient  feud  between  gal- 
ley and  fo'c's'le;  and  the  men  greeting  the 
cook's  coming  with  a  hungry  cry  of  delight  .  .  . 

Joel  glanced  at  these  new  allies,  and  saw 
their  weapons.  He  took  the  adze  from  Aaron, 
the  cleaver  from  the  other;  and  he  turned  and 
hurled  them  behind  him,  over  the  rail.  And  in 
the  moment's  silence  that  followed  on  this 
action,  he  called  to  the  men: 

[189] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

"Go  back  to  your  places." 

They  growled  at  him;  they  were  wordless, 
but  they  knew  the  thing  they  desired.  The 
cook  complained  at  Joel's  elbow:  "I  could  use 
that  cleaver." 

'Til  not  have  blood  spilled,"  Joel  told  him. 
"If  there's  fighting,  it  will  be  with  fists.  .  .  ." 

And  Mark  touched  Joel  lightly  on  the  shoul- 
der, and  took  his  place  beside  him.  He  was 
smiling,  a  twisted  smile  above  the  swollen 
lump  upon  his  jaw.  He  said  lightly:  "If  it's 
fists,  Joel — I  think  I'm  safest  to  fight  beside 
you." 

Joel  looked  up  at  him  with  a  swift  glance, 
and  he  brushed  his  hand  across  his  eyes,  and 
nodded.  "I  counted  on  that,  Mark — in  the 
last,  long  run,"  he  said.  Mark  gripped  his 
arm  and  pressed  it;  and  in  that  moment  the 
long,  unspoken  enmity  between  the  brothers 
died  forever.  They  faced  the  men  .  .  . 
[190] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

One  howled  like  a  wolf:  "He's  done  us. 
Done  us  in." 

And  another:  "They're  going  to  hog  it. 
Them  two  .  .  ." 

The  little  sea  of  scowling,  twisting  faces 
moved,  it  surged  forward  .  .  .  The  men 
charged,  more  than  a  score,  to  overwhelm  the 
four. 

In  the  moment  before,  Joel  had  marked 
young  Dick  Morrell,  at  one  side,  twisted 
with  indecision;  and  in  the  instant  when 
the  men  moved,  he  called:  "With  us,  Mr. 
Morrell." 

It  was  command,  not  question;  and  the  boy 
answered  with  a  shout  and  a  blow.  .  .  .  On  the 
flank  of  the  men,  he  swept  toward  them.  And 
Joel's  harpooner,  and  one  of  Asa  Worthen's 
old  men  formed  a  triumvirate  that  fought 
there.  .  .  . 

They  were  thus  seven  against  a  score.     But 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

they  were  seven  good  men.     And  the  score 
were  a  mob  .  .  . 

It  was  fists,  at  the  first,  as  Joel  had  sworn. 
The  first,  charging  line  broke  upon  them;  and 
old  Aaron  was  swept  back,  fighting  like  a  cat, 
and  crushed  and  bruised  and  left  helpless  in  an 
instant.  The  fat  cook  dodged  into  his  galley, 
and  snatched  a  knife  and  held  the  door  there, 
prodding  the  flanks  of  those  who  swirled  past 
his  stronghold.  Joel  dropped  the  first  man 
who  came  to  him;  and  likewise  Mark.  But 
another  twined  'round  Joel's  legs,  and  he  could 
not  kick  them  free,  and  there  was  no  time  to 
stoop  and  tear  the  man  away. 

He  and  Mark  kept  back  to  back  for  a  mo- 
ment; but  Mark  was  not  a  defensive  fighter. 
He  could  not  stand  still  and  wait  attack;  and 
when  his  second  man  fell,  he  leaped  the  twisting 
body  and  charged  into  the  clump  of  them.  His 
black  hair  tossed,  his  eye  was  flaming;  and  his 

[192] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

long  arms  worked  like  pistons  and  like  flails. 
He  became  the  center  of  a  group  that  writhed 
and  dissolved,  and  formed  again.  His  head 
rose  above  them  all. 

The  man  who  gripped  Joel's  legs,  freed  one 
hand  and  began  to  beat  at  Joel's  body  from  be- 
low. Joel  could  not  endure  the  blows;  he 
bent,  and  took  a  rain  of  buffets  on  his  head 
and  shoulders  while  he  caught  the  attacker  by 
the  throat,  and  lifted  him  up  and  flung  him 
away.  He  staggered  free,  set  his  back  against 
the  galley  wall;  and  when  he  shifted  to  avoid 
another  attack,  he  found  his  place  in  the  galley 
door.  The  fat  cook  crouched  behind  him,  and 
Joel  heard  him  shout:  "I'll  watch  your  legs, 
Cap'n.  Give  'em  the  iron,  sir.  Give  'em  th' 
iron." 

Once  Joel,   looking  down,   saw  the  cook's 
knife  play  like  a  flame  between  his  knees  .  .  * 
None  would  seek  to  pin  him  there. 
[193] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

The  black  harpooner  fought  his  way  across 
the  deck  to  Joel's  side.  He  left  a  trail  of 
twisting  bodies  behind  him.  And  he  was  grin- 
ning with  a  huge  delight.  "Now,  sar,  we'll  do 
'em,  sar,"  he  screamed.  The  sweat  poured 
down  his  black  cheeks;  and  his  mouth  was  cut 
and  bleeding.  His  shirt  was  torn  away  from 
one  shoulder  and  arm  .  .  . 

"Good  man,"  said  Joel,  between  his  pant- 
ing blows.  "Good  man !" 

Across  the  deck,  one  who  had  run  forward 
for  a  handspike  swept  it  down  on  young  Dick 
Morrell's  brown  head.  Morrell  dodged,  but 
the  blow  cracked  his  shoulder  and  swept  him 
to  the  deck.  The  man  who  had  fought  beside 
him  spraddled  the  prostrate  body,  and  jerked 
an  iron  from  the  boat  on  the  davits  at  his  back 
and  held  it  like  a  lance,  to  keep  all  men  at  a 
distance.  A  sheath  knife  sped,  and  twisted  in 

[194] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

the  air,  and  struck  him  butt  first  above  the  eye, 
so  that  he  fell  limply  and  lay  still  .  .  . 

Mark  Shore  had  been  forced  against  the  rail 
near  where  Jim  Finch  was  pinned.  Big  Finch 
was  howling  and  weeping  with  fright;  and  a 
little  man  of  the  crew  with  a  rat's  mean  soul 
who  hated  Finch  had  found  his  hour.  He  was 
leaping  about  the  mate,  lashing  him  mercilessly 
with  a  heavy  end  of  rope;  and  Finch  screamed 
and  twisted  beneath  the  blows. 

So  swiftly  had  the  tumult  of  the  battle  arisen 
that  all  these  things  had  come  to  pass  before 
the  harpooners  asleep  in  the  steerage  could  wake 
and  reach  the  deck.  When  they  climbed  the 
ladder,  and  looked  about  them,  they  saw  Mor- 
rell  and  his  ally  prostrate  at  one  side,  Joel  and 
the  cook  holding  the  galley  door  against  a  half 
dozen  men;  and  big  Mark's  towering  head 
amidst  a  knot  of  half  a  dozen  more.  And  one 

[195] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

of  the  harpooners  backed  away  toward  the  waist 
of  the  ship,  watchful  and  wary,  taking  no  part 
in  the  affair. 

But  the  other  .  .  .  He  was  a  Cape  Verder, 
black  blood  crossed  with  Spanish;  and  Mark 
Shore  had  tied  him  to  a  davit,  once  upon  a 
time,  and  lashed  him  till  he  bled,  for  faults 
committed.  He  saw  Mark  now,  and  his  eyes 
shone  greedily. 

This  man  crouched,  and  crossed  to  a  boat — 
his  own — and  chose  his  own  harpoon.  He 
twisted  off  the  wooden  sheath  that  covered  the 
point,  and  flung  it  across  the  deck;  and  he  poised 
the  heavy  iron  in  his  hands,  and  started  slowly 
toward  Mark,  moving  on  tiptoe,  lightly  as  a 
cat. 

Mark  saw  him  coming;  and  the  big  man 
shouted  joyfully:  "Why,  Silva!  Come, 
you  .  .  ." 

He  flung  aside  the  men  encircling  him.     One 

[196] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

among  them  held  the  handspike  with  which  he 
had  struck  down  Morrell ;  and  Mark  smote  this 
man  in  the  body,  and  when  he  doubled, 
wrenched  the  great  club  from  his  hands.  He 
swung  this,  leaped  to  meet  the  harpooner. 

They  came  together  in  mid-deck.  The 
great  handspike  whistled  through  the  air,  and 
down.  An  egg-shell  crunched  beneath  a  heel 
.  .  .  Silva  dropped. 

Mark  stood  for  an  instant  above  him ;  and  in 
that  instant,  every  man  saw  the  harpoon  which 
Silva  had  driven  home.  Its  heavy  shaft  hung, 
dragging  on  the  deck;  it  hung  from  Mark's 
breast,  high  in  the  right  shoulder;  and  the  point 
stood  out  six  inches  behind  his  shoulder  blade. 
It  seemed  to  drag  at  him;  he  bent  slowly  be- 
neath its  weight,  and  drooped,  and  lay  at  last 
across  the  body  of  the  man  whose  skull  the 
handspike  had  crushed. 

There  were,  at  that  moment,  about  a  dozen 

[197] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

of  the  men  still  on  their  feet;  but  in  the  instant 
of  their  paralyzed  dismay,  two  things  struck 
them;  two  furies  .  .  .  Dick  Morrell,  tottering 
on  unsteady  feet,  brandishing  a  razor-tipped 
lance  full  ten  feet  long.  He  came  upon  the 
men  from  the  flank,  shouting;  and  Joel,  when 
he  saw  his  brother  fall,  left  his  shelter  in  the 
galley  door  and  swept  upon  them.  The  fat 
cook,  with  the  knife,  fought  nobly  at  his  side. 

The  men  broke;  they  fled  headlong,  for- 
ward; and  Joel  and  Morrell  and  the  cook  pur- 
sued them,  through  the  waist,  past  the  trypots, 
till  they  tumbled  down  the  fo'c's'le  scuttle  and 
huddled  in  their  bunks  and  howled  .  .  . 

A  dozen  limp  bodies  sprawled  upon  the  deck, 
bodies  of  moaning  men  with  heads  that  would 
ache  and  pound  for  days.  .  .  .  Joel  left  Mor- 
rell to  guard  the  fo'c's'le,  and  went  back  among 
them,  going  swiftly  from  man  to  man.  .  .  . 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Silva  was  dead.  The  others  would  not  die- 
save  only  Mark.  The  iron  had  pierced  his 
chest,  had  ripped  a  iung  .  .  . 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

HE  died  that  night,  smiling  to  the  last. 
He  was  able  to  speak,  now  and  then, 
before  the  end;  and  Joel  and  Priss  were  near 
him,  at  his  side,  soothing  him,  listening  .  .  . 

He  asked  Joel,  once:  "Shall  I  tell  you — 
where — pearls  ..." 

Joel  shook  his  head.  "I  do  not  want  them," 
he  said.  "They  have  enough  blood  to  turn 
them  crimson.  Let  them  lie." 

And  Mark  smiled,  and  nodded  faintly. 
"Right,  boy.  Let  them  lie.  .  .  ."  And  his 
eyes  shone  up  at  them ;  and  he  whispered  pres- 
ently: "That  was — a  fight  to  tell  about, 
Joel.  .  .  ." 

In  those  hours  beside  Mark,  Priss  completed 
the  transition  from  girl  to  woman.  She  was 
[200] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

very  sober,  and  quiet;  but  she  did  not  weep,  and 
she  answered  Mark's  smiles.  And  Mark, 
watching  her,  seemed  to  remember  something, 
toward  the  last.  Joel  saw  his  eyes  beckon ;  and 
he  bent  above  his  brother,  and  Mark  whispered 
weakly : 

"Treasure — Priss,  Joel.  She's — worth  all. 
.  .  .  Kissed  her,  but  she  fought  me  .  .  ." 

Joel  gripped  his  brother's  hand.  "I  knew 
there  was  no — harm  in  you — or  in  her,"  he  said. 
"Don't  trouble,  Mark  .  .  ." 

When  old  Aaron  had  stitched  the  canvas 
shroud,  they  laid  Mark  on  the  cutting  stage; 
and  Joel  read  over  him  from  the  Book,  while 
the  men  stood  silent  by.  Chastened  men,  heads 
bandaged,  arms  in  slings  .  .  .  Big  Jim  Finch 
at  one  side,  shamed  of  face.  Varde,  sullen  as 
ever,  but  with  hopelessness  writ  large  upon  him. 
Morrell,  and  old  Hooper  .  .  . 
[201] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

Joel  finished,  and  he  closed  the  Book. 
"Unto  the  deep  .  .  ."  The  cutting  stage 
tilted,  and  the  wave  leaped  and  caught  its  bur- 
den and  bore  it  softly  down.  .  .  .  The  sun  was 
shining,  the  sea  danced,  the  wind  was  warm  on 
fair  Priscilla's  cheek  .  .  . 

And  as  though,  the  brief,  dramatic  chapter 
being  ended,  another  must  at  once  begin,  the 
masthead  man  presently  called  down  to  Joel  the 
long,  droning  hail : 

"Ah-h-h-h !     Blow-w-w-w-w !" 

And  he  flung  his  arm  toward  where  a  misty 
spout  sparkled  in  the  sun  a  mile  or  two 
away.  Minutes  later,  the  boats  took  water; 
and  the  Nathan  Ross  was  about  her  business 
again. 

Joel  wrote  in  the  log  that  night,  with  Pris- 
cilla  be^de  him,  her  fingers  in  his  hair.     Pris- 
[  202  ] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

cilia  had  been  very  humble,  till  Joel  took  her 
in  his  arms  and  comforted  her  .  .  . 

He  set  down  the  ship's  position ;  he  recorded 
their  capture,  that  day,  of  a  great  bull  cacha- 
lot; and  then: 

".  .  .  This  day  Mark  Shore  was  buried  at 
sea.  He  died  late  last  night,  from  wounds  re- 
ceived when  he  fought  valiantly  to  put  down 
the  mutiny  of  the  crew.  Fourth  brother  of  the 
House  of  Shore  .  .  ." 

And  below,  the  ancient  and  enduring  epi- 
taph: 

"  'All  the  brothers  were  valiant.'  " 

Priscilla,  reading  over  his  shoulder,  pointed 
to  this  line  and  whispered  sorrowfully:  "But  I 
— called  you  coward,  Joel."  He  looked  up  at 
her,  and  smiled  a  little.  "I  know  better  now," 
she  said.  "So — give  me  the  pen.  .  .  .  And 
close  your  eyes.  .  .  ." 

[203] 


All  the  Brothers  Were  Valiant 

He  heard  the  scratch  of  steel  on  paper;  and 
when  he  opened  his  eyes  again  he  saw  that  Pris- 
cilla  had  underscored,  with  three  deep  strokes, 
the  first  word  of  that  honorable  line. 


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[204] 


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